


Past Life

by invisible_nerd_girl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Death, M/M, Major Character Injury, Many Deaths, Past lives like the title says, Sad character death, Several lives, Soulmates, They live too.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:02:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisible_nerd_girl/pseuds/invisible_nerd_girl
Summary: Stiles has a vivid dream after loosing Derek in Mexico. But it soon becomes clear that it's not just a dream and he's has to figure it out before it's too late. (Death in the first chapter.)
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 10
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles jerked his head around and saw a familiar face but he couldn’t place it. The flash of recognition was gone in a heartbeat and he ducked away to smack Scott, getting him to turn around. The man didn’t move and Stiles instantly started picking at his jacket and neck, struggling to look at him yet unable to turn away. It mostly made him duck his head with a stupid, gaping look on his face as he stared openly at him. He didn’t quiet cover it up with licking his lips as Scott stood next to him. Then he was stalking toward him.

“What are you doing here?” The voice didn’t quite fit what he expected and he got lost as to why the voice wasn’t right. Guilt shot through him and he ducked his head, bringing up his hand to rub the back of it while he shifted on his feet. Why was this difficult? Was it because Scott was attacked near here? It was a lot nicer than the fact that it was the man that was making him nervous. He peeked up when the man made a questioning noise and stopped a few feet away from them. 

“This is private property.” He leaned forward more like it would give him more emphasis on his words but Stiles was recovering. 

“Uh, sorry man we didn’t know.” He was recovering, not recovered. That would be his excuse. He wasn’t really ready to spout lie or even have one ready. Part of him knew there were people who owned the preserve, but there were no fences or even any people left. 

“Yeah, we we’re just looking for something but…” Scott started with his hands swinging and Stiles tried to look innocent. The man lifted his eye brows and he cringed inwardly. “Uh, forget it.” His friend did not take sass well from others. Then the man pulled his hand out of his pocket and tossed something, and Scott caught it. The man shoved his hand back in his pocket with a glare, shaking his jacket on his shoulders before he turned, walking away without turning around to make sure they were leaving. Stiles openly stared with his mouth hanging open, knowing that sway and tense shoulders. He knew that man, but a name popped into his head as Scott spoke. 

“Alright, come on. I gotta get it work.” Scott started to take a step forward and Stiles snapped his hand out and grabbed his arm.

“Dude! That was Derek Hale.” He smacked his chest with the back of his hand but there was no light turning on in his brothers eyes. “You remember right? He’s only like a few years older than us.” Stiles glanced up a few times as his hands waves around to get rid of some of his nervous energy. 

“Remember what?” Scott asked and he stared for just a second.  
==================================================================  
Stiles sighed again as he kept cutting. Being cooks helper for the prince wasn’t he hardest job. He wasn’t stuck with taking care of the bitchy Ladies of the house who purposely made disgusting messes to make the maids clean or the knights and men who are sometime grabby or aggressive. Sometimes both. All he had to do with Cook was get up early to help make bread and then all the meals. He also cleaned and picked up whatever the other helpers were too busy to do. 

The Hales were important people who had a lot of visitors and parties, so it meant busy kitchen staff who worked like a brigade of soldiers. They marched along, moving around each other with heavy dishes or whatever was needed to make their employers happy. The Hales themselves were apparently the nicest to work with, though he had worked there for three years and only met Cora, who immediately challenged him to a duel and regularly used him for target practice. She never misses her ‘Near misses’ of his head.

“Stiles, please set up the table in the sunroom.” Cook called out as he strolled pass with a massive box on his shoulder. Stiles saluted and ducked out the door. He made his way to the closet across the hall and gathered up some dusting clothes, table clothes and all the napkins he would need. He was banned from carrying only a few things at a time if they were breakable but cloth would still work if he fumbled them. 

The halls echoed his footsteps as he walked not matter how quiet he tried to make his feet but he started to hum under his breath and stopped at the door. It took a few moments of shifting his load around before he could reach a hand out and open it, slipping in. In the moment he took to look around and sigh, one thought came to mind. The Hales were beyond rich. 

The room itself was already beautiful simply with the artwork on the walls themselves, painted by past Hales themselves. They were treated every few years due to the wall of windows on the other side that caught the morning sun every morning. It was right down to the gardens so nothing blocked it. The glass itself arched up until it made a half dome and was colored in some places but he didn’t even know what it was called. There was a table that had been moved to the middle of the room so he set his pile on it, cleaning the surface carefully before setting out everything. He made a mental list in his head of how many chairs were set up and what he would need for them, including a centerpiece if Cook wanted it. He would have to ask someone. 

Once he was done, he stood back and gazed at his work before nodding. It looked perfect, minus the missing plates. He spun on his heel and marched back through the halls, darting around the growing crowd. He was a turn away from the kitchens when someone ran into him and he collapsed against a door. The man was like a solid brick of a human, but he didn’t seem to want to stop. A massive hand reached down and turned the knob by his head and then they were in a closet. The same hand clamped over his mouth and he squawked, flapping his arms around until the man crouched in the dark. 

He had been running, his heaving chest evident of that and Stiles felt himself calm. There had to be a reason for fleeing so much that Stiles could feel the heat pooling off his body and filling the small space. The hand pulled back and a trembling finger was pressed against his lips. They were both still for several seconds while they listened, and then a pair of running footsteps moved past the door and down the hall. When they could no longer hear them, the man sagged down with a groan. 

“I’m so sorry I ran into you.” A rough voice spoke but Stiles could hear the genuine regret. “Are you hurt?” Stiles jerked slightly, suddenly remembering his ungraceful entrance into the room and reached up, running a few tentative fingers over his head. It stung where there was a growing lump and there was a line up his body on one side that would bruise from the man running into him and then down the other side from hitting the door. His hip was smarting where he struck the rough stones of the walkway and an ankle wasn’t doing so hot. 

“Uh, well?” He knew his voice was high pitched but he was a little dazed. “Can’t really be worse than what made you run.”

“Uh, probably not.” The man shifted around until he was sitting next to Stiles, moving so his back was pressed against the wall. Stiles did the same, pressing against the cool stone. 

“Wanna talk about it? I mean, I’m already in here.” He started rubbing his hip, trying to ease some of the sting deep in the bone. The man grunted but Stiles simply started working his fingers down, checking over his ankle as he pulled it closer. It made his knee brush the other man but he didn’t seem to mind. 

“I don’t want to marry my intended. She’s evil. I think she’s going to kill me.” the man spoke suddenly and Stiles jerked his head up, his hand unintentionally landing on his arm as he subconsciously reached out. The man sounded so hopeless, like he already accepted his death and Stiles didn’t want that. 

“Have you told anyone else? They need to know this.” Stiles didn’t take his hand away but he flinched as one landed over his. 

“I don’t know if they will care. I’ve been engaged to her for so long. It was before either of us were even born.” The man sighed out.

“Well, don’t go down without a fight then. If she’s really evil, catch her ass. Find evidence that she could be a threat to the kingdom, though all Ladies I hear are evil.” He nudged his elbow against his and the man gave a chuckle. 

“And what makes you think that all Ladies are a little evil?” The man asked and Stiles hummed, tilting his head back as he thought. He’d shouldn’t go with the easiest example that he had but it was the most honest one he had. 

“Alright, everyone has their stories and everyone but moi talks in the kitchens.” He would’ve winked if they weren’t sitting in pitch black. “However, I know Cora Hale is a little… twisted?” He lost his confidence and shrugged. “Whenever she gets bored, she comes down and waits until I’m walking to get more water and shoots at me with her arrows. Sometimes when I’m in the kitchen as well, or setting up the dinning halls. I almost didn’t get one out before a major ball happened. I have minutes before the guests would be led in expecting to see a perfectly set up hall, not the kitchen staff tugging on an arrow in the wall while cursing it.” He finished his story and the man was still silent. 

“But it’s not the worse. I’ve heard of people who had to clean up after Ladies who refused to even dress themselves, or lift their forks to their mouths.” He shook his head and stood. “I’m sorry. I have to set up the Sunroom for breakfast.” 

“Oh, well. Thank you for taking a moment with me.” The man stood as well and Stiles snorted roughly. 

“Eh, anytime. But please, if you need to talk, don’t start it by shoving me in the closet with you. Maybe before you feel the need to flee?” Stiles smacked his chest with the back of his hand and opened the door a crack. “See, all clear.” He chuckled and swung it open just enough so he could slip out. He glanced back once to see a flash of hazel that outdid everything in the glass of the sunroom and a face he swore he recognized from somewhere before he was completely out. 

Stiles limped for the rest of the day and his hip joint popped when he walked with his usual long stride but every time he felt a little distain for the pain he pictured the man standing there in the sliver of light, looking at him with a face of confused delight. He heard his voice of defeat and wanted to hug. It was the same tone his mother took after his father died. He kept her alive for two more years before he lost her as well.

It wasn’t until nearly a week later did he see the man again. He was wondering through the forest to collect berries and herbs. There was a small patch that the Hales owned just for themselves but everyone else could get whatever they could from the forest, within reason. He had filled his baskets with berries and set them to the side, turning on his task of gathering herbs. He was the best collector and drier in the kitchens so he was the one who had to do it. 

“Hello again.” the mans voice came from behind him and he sat back on his heels so he could look over his shoulder, a grin blooming on his face. 

“Good afternoon. Glad to see you can be civil.” He went back to work, snipping some rosemary since they had to keep their storage up. They already went through most of it and got rid of what couldn’t be used after last winter so it was time to start stocking it back up.

“Yet you are still bruised from our last encounter.” The man kneeled next to him and Stiles shot him a confused look. Fingers brushed just above his trousers where his shirt was ridding up and his pale skin showed the blotchy green and yellow of the healing bruise. 

“It’s healing.” Stiles ducked his head as his face heated up. The man ran a single finger over the bruise before turning to look at what he was doing. 

“Are you busy?” He asked and Stiles rolled his eyes. 

“Obviously. I have a job and need to get these back by sun high so I can start drying them.” He peaked up and saw that he still had a two hours and it wasn’t a long walk, maybe half of one. 

“Really? Cause I was hoping for some company.” The man sighed and he snorted. 

“Please, I’ve used that line.” He smacked the mans arm with the back of his, who looked positively delighted and rolled over onto his stomach. 

“What is your job?” He asked and Stiles shot a look at him. “Just curious. I don’t want to be home right now. They think I’m being foolish. A big, sophisticated, educated man like me thinking my bride to be, who is also all those things, is trying to kill me? Foolish!” The man didn’t sound so helpless anymore but there was a tone of confusion and Stiles reached out, pausing at the last second to pull away. 

“I really don’t know how to help, but right now I’m harvesting some herbs.” He held up a bunch of rosemary and gave it a little wave. Stiles started explaining everything he could from what berries he had and how they would go into the deserts to how he was going to save some of the herbs all the way to how he was helping some of the gardeners with their vegetables so Cook would have something good to work with. He bounced around so much so he wouldn’t let his brain start over thinking. 

“And then I…” He stopped and looked down at his lap in shock. The man was asleep with a faint smile on his face. There were bags under his eyes and he reached out, running his fingers through his hair and looked up. He had half an hour before he had to leave so he sat there in silence, gently petting the strained man. He could always tell Cook that a bunny fell asleep on him considering the man had the cutest teeth that reminded him of just that. He couldn’t really think of things like that. They were of the same gender and of different class. He wasn’t sure which one would get him killed faster. So he worked with what he had near, and didn’t think about how this would be the end of his lineage. 

Three days later he was pulled into a room and the man stared at him. Stiles stared back, opening and closing his mouth several times before choosing silence. He was shoved into a chair and then the man paced back and forth across the room. He occasionally muttered to himself, making him fidget in the chair and look at the floor. 

“Am I in trouble for something?” He peeked up and the man froze, gazing at him before shaking his head. 

“We are now at war with the, uh, people who I was meant to marry.” He scrubbed a hand across his face and Stiles gaped openly. 

“War?” He stood without thinking and the man stopped in front of him, his head bowed in what Stiles could only see was shame. 

“Kate, she noticed I wasn’t… She heard me tell my sister and tried to kill her. She was stopped but now our countries have declared war on each other. People are going to die because I didn’t!” He glanced up and Stiles found himself reaching out to him. 

“You don’t know what they were planning. They could’ve been planning a war this entire time, or they didn’t care, as long as they were getting you to react. I know people, and I know that if she was planning on killing you then she certainly had other plans that neither of us could guess. People who would look at someone like you and plan their murder are broken somewhere in the head but this isn’t your…” Stiles stopped when the first kiss came. It was so small that he barely felt it but his eyes closed as he swayed forward. A small laugh came from the man and he felt the puff of air against his lips.

“Thank you.” The man whispered while brushing their noses together, making Stiles tilt his head back just slightly with a sigh. A steadying hand landed on his shoulder and he opened his eyes, gasping when the other hand landed on his waist, right on the spot where he had been bruised. The man was smiling, though they were so close that he couldn’t see his mouth, his eyes were crinkling and he dropped his head down until their foreheads were pressed together. 

“I wanna kiss you.” Stiles begged, barely breathing out the words and the man just nuzzled their noses together. 

“We just did.” He sounded so smug that he would’ve pulled away yet he found his chest was warming at the playful glint he’d never seen in his eyes before. 

“And how was it?” Stiles inched closer and reached up, running his hands up his chest and over his shoulder. 

“Mmm.” The man tilted his head back like he was thinking about it and Stiles lost patience. He usually had a lot but it seemed like his friend knew exactly how to push him over the edge. Before he could really think about what he was doing, he had a hand burried in his dark locks, tugging his face back down to his and placed a kiss that was so much more on his lips. The man groaned into his mouth and pulled him flush against his chest. Stiles lost himself easily into it all, the tiny kisses and murmurs of happiness between them. He didn’t want to stop but then he was pulling back. 

“You have to listen.” He groaned out as Stiles started pressing kisses along his neck. Stiles whined as his hands were grabbed and he was held away from his lover but then the words regestered in his lust soaked mind. 

“Uh, listening, very much listening but if you keep touching me then I won’t be.” Stiles looked pointedly to where his wrists were being held out on either side of him and the man let go. He took a few steps back and leaned agains the table, bracing himself against it with his plams flat behind him as he bowed his head. It took a few seconds of panting before he was able to lift it, chuckling softly as the man licked his lips and turned his head away with a reddening face. 

“I’m a soldier. I have to leave by tomorrow morning.” Stiles felt all the words come back to him like a bucket of ice water being thrown on him. It made him gasp for breath and he closed his eyes when they started to burn. The man he met wouldn’t survive a war. Either the death or the act itself would take him away.

“Is there anyway…” Stiles stopped himself and stared at the floor under his boots. He wasn’t in any position to question the war. He honestly didn’t know enough about it to make any sugestions and yet he didn’t want to loose his friend. The man wouldn’t run away with him considering he was already blamming himself for all the lives that would be lost. 

“What’s your name?” The man took a hesitant step forward and he jerked his head up. 

“Stiles. I never told you.” A faint smile danced across his lips. “Guess I’m uncooth.” 

“I never told you mine. You never figured it out, Stiles.” The man walked until he was right in front of him but Stiles cocked his head to the side. 

“I didn’t want to know. You… you became my friend and, well, if I knew who you were then I would feel bad when I wanted to kiss you. So I just didn’t look for a title. I already knew you liked to listen to me talk and I liked it when you were close, that I had someone to be around without any real expectations. That someone would turn to me.” Stiles bounced around in his explanation, which only made the man smile brightly and kiss the tip of his nose. 

“Stiles, I’m the prince. Derek Hale?” He gave him a pulled back with a worried look on his face and Stiles gaped at him before shoving him off. Stiles paced aroudn the room, a hand over his lips as he did. It made sense. It made too much sense and he didn’t want it to. 

“You’re the prince. I kissed the prince.” He whispered under his breath and then there were arms around him. 

“Stiles, please. I have to… Please stay with me.” Derek held him and he leaned against the warm of his chest as his mind raced. He closed his eyes and sighed. 

“You have to lead the war, don’t you?” He looked up and saw a darkness spread across his face, turning it into something he didn’t recognize and he saw the leader, the soldier staring at him. Maybe his lover would survive this. He had to, and Stiles could join. He could be there with him and make sure he did. 

“One night. That’s all I have. Stiles, just one.” Dereks face turned back to begging and he felt any resolve he had crack. 

“Does anyone know about me?” He asked carefully and Derek shook his head. “Good. One night, one… er, one go and then you rest. I plan on more.” He gave him a meaningful look and Derek just smiled, leaning in and kissing him. Stiles pressed back but part of his mind was on planning. He could stay with his lover a little longer. A second later Derek’s hand was in his hair, moving his head to the side so he could trail kisses down his neck and all thoughts other than pleasure shot from his mind. 

The next morning he was woke up with kisses and he smiled, tilting his toward him. Derek murmured softly and Stiles grunted, reaching out blindly before opening his eyes. 

“You’re such a heavy sleeper.” Derek chuckled, pulling back and Stiles let out a pained moan. He wasn’t dressed like anything he had seem him in before, which was simple clothes. This time he was in full princely attire that fit him perfectly and made Stiles jerk a little in the bed. Last night was wonderful, but he was already wanting more. 

“What time is it?” He continued to reach out until the man moved closer and he pulled himself up to a few more kisses. 

“I’m leaving in a few minutes.” Derek managed to catch him as he spazzed out of the bed and he stood with his help. 

“What? Minutes! But I planned.” Stiles was practically shouting and he was silenced with a kiss. It was better than the hand like before but it wasn’t going to take long.

“Stiles, I need you to do something for me.” Derek whispered and he pressed his lips together in a frown. It didn’t help that his legs were wobbling under him or that he was sore or even that their nightly event was currently leaking out of him. 

“Derek, I… I need you to survive this. I can’t explain why but..” The words stopped as he looked at him, realizing he was feeling the same thing. He sighed at the words that were coming. 

“Stiles. Give me one month.” Derek chuckled when he jerked his head back. Those weren’t the exact words he thought were coming. 

“What?” He narrowed his eyes suspesiously and Derek sighed. 

“We are in contact with a man called Chris, the older brother to Kate. He wants peace, without blood shed so we are considering it. However, I still have to leave to protect the Eastern boarder. We are tenically at war so an attack can come at any time.” Derek explained it slowly but Stiles was starting to hear the seconds of their few minutes left tic by.

“So you want a month to do what.” He had guessed what it was already but he wanted to hear the words coming out of his mouth. 

“I want you to wait a month before following me. I know you were already planning it, I could see it on your face. But you have no training in combat. Please, Stiles. How can you ask me to take you with me when I know I will most likely loose you in battle. I would be distracted, trying to keep you safe instead of leading my troops. Give me a month, where there might not even be fighting before you follow.” Stiles looked at the wall as he talked, trying to think of the words he said instead of the love he felt looking at his face made him want to give in. 

Yet everything he said was true. There was no loophole. Stiles had no training. He was strong from his work but he didn’t know if he could take a life. He didn’t know how to handle weapons and it was well known by everyone in the castle that he had the tendency to loose control of his limbs. He didn’t want Derek to be distracted. He has the training and was meant to lead the troops, so he couldn’t be looking over his shoulder to make sure that Stiles was alive. 

“One month,” Stiles agreed softly. A large hand slipped under his chin, turning his head so he could be kissed. “Then I’m coming for you.”

“Thank you Stiles.” Derek muttered between kisses and he sighed. Thirty days. That’s all he had to wait until he could follow. He gave his word. He leaned against him and sighed, closing his eyes as he reveled in the closeness of his lover. 

“Hey Derek, you need to…. Oh.” Cora burst in and Stiles jerked back. He would’ve flayed his arms around if they weren’t suddenly pinned to the princes chest as he was hugged tighter. 

“Uh, hi.” He peeked over at her and was promptly tossed on the bed. He yelped loudly but rolled over with his hands buried in the covers so his nudity was hidden. 

“Soooo.” She pointed between them and he shrunk down. 

“Not because of the Kate thing. It just happened last night.” Derek sounded gruff and Stiles glanced over to see his ears were tinged red. 

“Uh huh.” Cora beamed at them and he groaned, burying his face in his hands. 

“It’s true Cora. I didn’t even know he was the prince until last night, or that he was leaving.” He shot a tiny glare at the man who just turned to his sister. 

“Keep him here for a month. That’s what he promised.” Derek waited until Cora nodded, though she had a confused look on her face. He kneeled in the bed again and Stiles pouted up at him, receiving a single kiss on the head before he pulled back. “Remember your promise.”

“Fine.” He tried not to show his pain as he watched him leave. Cora got a long hug before the man was ducking out of the room. 

“What the Hell?” She spun on him and he tried to cover up the tears that started rolling down his face the moment that he was gone. He caught a glimpse of her shocked gasp before he started scrubbing them off his face. 

“Uh, we were friends. He talked to me about thinking Kate wanted to kill him, and I thought he was just going to accept his death so I told him to fight it, to talk to someone else about it. He kept visiting so we could talk and then last night we, uh, obviously.” He bit at his lip and stared at the door. “He’s going to be ok. He’s gotta be.”

“Thank you.” Cora threw her arms around his shoulders before letting out a screech and jumping back. “Oh, ew. I could’ve touched something.” She frantically rubbed her hands on her front and he stared at her in shock. 

“You’re welcome?” He watched blankly as she hopped around the room, still frantically wiping her hands. After a few seconds she stopped and beamed at him. 

“You gave us Derek back. He was becoming so inverted and broken. We couldn’t figure out why until he had he ran away. He came back and told us he met a friend who told him he should turn to us. At first our mother didn’t believe anything but then everything happened, but it was true. We can’t lose Derek now that he has his fight back. You gave him that” She jumped up and down, spinning in an excited circle before waving her hands around. “Take the rest of the day off but then you should go back to work like nothing has happened. You won’t be asked to go to war and I want to see you every day so I know you’re keeping your promise to my brother.” She pointed at him threateningly before vanishing out the door. Stiles fell back into the covers of the bed and stared at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure what he was meant to be feeling so he blacked out instead. 

Over the next three weeks he was in agony. All he wanted was to see his lover. It was worse than when he didn’t know his name, when he only had his imagination to see the love in his eyes yet now he had to live with the memories of it. He didn’t really get a lot done, instead wondering around on pointless errands. Everyone else was so busy that they didn’t seem to notice that he was like a ghost, drifting around. 

At the moment, he was heading to see Cora for the nightly check, his mind starting to count the minutes until he was allowed to leave. He said the night on the thirtieth day but Cora told him she would chain him in the dungeons and that he had to wait until the morning. He grudgingly agreed but he was already packed to leave. 

Knocking on the door, he waited until she called him in to enter and saw her sitting at her desk. He opened his mouth to tell her that he was still there when his vision went black. Stiles froze, not really knowing what was happening but he blinked a few times. There was no change. 

Then the images started and it felt like he was falling. Derek was with him, around him. They were married. They were creatures. They were sailors or pirates. They were fighters, lovers, hunted, dead. Agony coursed through him as he remembered. Every life they had together rushed through his mind but all he could focus on was the fact that every time he had this happen. Derek or Stiles was dying.

Cora slapped him. He saw her through hazy vision and felt her hands pulling him up. There were others around him in the room but he didn’t care. It felt like his mouth was molded shut and he blinked rapidly to show he was listening. They were asking too many questions so he pried himself out of his shock. 

“My chest.” His voice didn’t sound right, almost like he drank liquor and coughed it back up. Someone was holding onto his arms and he was being pulled up. He opened his eyes to see the halls passing by and he realized that he was being carried somewhere. 

“Stiles, just tell us what happened.” Cora bounced behind them and he rolled his head to look at her, realizing he couldn’t see. Instead he was seeing sky. Shock radiated through him and he looked down, seeing blood blooming from where he felt pain in his own body. Now he felt nothing. 

“Derek, I’m so sorry.” His own voice came out and the body let out a groan. He lost his strength and was staring up at the setting sun again. 

“Don’t leave me like this, Stiles. Please don’t leave me.” Derek begged, his voice breaking as he coughed but Stiles knew it was too late. He was fading out and he felt Dereks body fall limp. He screamed as he was set down, his back arching off the bed before he lost the energy he had and collapsed. 

“What’s happening?” Cora’s trembling voice was by his ear and he ignored it. He waited. Any moment now his own breathing would stop and they would start again. Any moment. Any breath. He was ready. He wondered if Derek wanted him to fight. They could go from hours to a week, waiting to die yet too weak to live. His chest ached with every breath he took and he could still feel the wound that killed his lover. He eventually got bored enough to open his eyes. 

“Stiles?” Cora grabbed his hand and he turned to see the sun rising behind her, blinding him to seeing anything other than her silhouette. 

“Cora.” His lips formed the words and he felt something land on his lip. He licked it. Blood was coming from his mouth. He was close. “Derek’s dead. They killed him. His chest.” He stopped when she shook her head and fell back into the bed. Everything faded.   
=================================================================================  
Stiles jerked back and jumped to his feet. His heart was pounding so heavily in his chest that he could see it in the rings around his eyes that throbbed with every beat. He managed to stay standing for a few second before his legs buckled and he fell to his knees, clutching his head as he tried to get his bearings on what just happened. It was rough but he breathed through it and crawled back into his bed. 

It wasn’t as if he was a stranger to nightmares, but it was vivid, and if he was honest with himself, it struck a chord in him. Ever since they lost Derek in Mexico, it was eating at him. The loss was almost as bad as when he lost his mother. It wasn’t the same, considering he knew every little thing that had happened to her and he knew nothing on what happened to Derek. He searched everywhere but nothing. It was almost like he was going to be wondering forever what if. 

He shuttered as a car alarm started outside and he heard his father roll out of bed in response. His computer whirred annoyingly to the side and he could hear a buzzing but had no idea where it was coming from. The dream life he just experienced wasn’t like this. It was quieter. Stiles took a breath through his nose to try and settle himself but it only made his stomach protest as he scented the Cheetos he ate after dinner last night. The artificial, overpowering smell of cheese made him sit back up and cover his mouth. It didn’t make any sense to him but then his head was rolling back to rest on his bed. Stiles hissed low as his eyes closed and he was once again falling into the darkness of sleep. He woke with sun on his face and his father knocking on his door as he swung it open. 

“Stiles, did you sleep like that?” His father sounded concerned and he groaned, struggling to lift his head back up as his neck stiffened. He brought a hand up and started rubbing at it until he could actually see his father standing in the doorway. 

“I think I fell out of bed. I had the strangest dream.” Stiles kept his hand on his neck and he shifted, trying to get back on his bed. 

“Anything I should be worried about?” His father gave him a stern look as he walked over, grabbing his arm to help him into bed. Stiles jerked slightly, moving to shake his head before remembering that it was still sore and he shouldn’t jerk it about anymore.

“Nah, I just fell asleep on the floor.” Stiles still had to fight to not shake his head as he sat down. 

“Really? You’re moving like an old man and holding your chest.” His father pointed and Stiles let a groan as finally jerked his head down to look at his chest. His free hand was rubbing at the spot where the dream Derek took an arrow. Shock made his body go cold and he took a shuttering breath as he dropped his hand down. 

“I thought someone died. A pack member, but it was like I lived it too. In the dream.” Stiles explained almost too easily, and his father sat next to him, close enough to be a comfort but still giving him space so Stiles could choose a hug if he wanted. He needed one and practically faceplanted into his fathers shoulder. 

“It’s about Derek, isn’t it?” His father asked softly and Stiles found himself nodding, clinging him closer as he tried to make the dream go away. 

“He was such a useless prick, but he tried to be there to protect us. He did in the end and now he’s gone and we don’t even know what happened to him.” Stiles huffed as he finished and felt the strain finally leave after admitting it to his father was. It was weighing on his chest to carry it all alone. 

“A loss of a difficult friend is still a loss. Death brings back a lot of bad memories too.” His father swallowed thickly and he nodded as he slowly pulled back. 

“Was there something you needed?” He asked as he brought his hand up to rub the sleep junk from his eyes and his father patted his shoulder. 

“I was just coming to tell you I was heading to the station.” His father gave him a worried smiled and he tilted his head back to see that they were a couple hours into the day. 

“Shit. Yeah, I have work to do too.” Stiles swung to his feet and stretched, rolling his neck to try to ease the stiffness that was trying to slow him. His room was once again his room and no longer bore into his senses like an ice pick. 

His father left after a few minutes where Stiles stumbled around his room to clean up what he need to find for his research but this time he didn’t bother to hide the fact that he was looking into what had happened in Mexico. He set everything up at his desk before heading to the bathroom, planning on relieving himself, getting food and then throwing himself into the work. The pain in his chest was sharp as he was washing his face and left him gasping. He slowly pulled his shirt up and saw an angry red stain on his skin where the arrow hit.


	2. Something that Swims

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next life

The sea was a creature that he had always been drawn to. As a child he found himself running into the ocean, trying his hardest to search the waves. He learned to swim before he could remember, using the waves to move his body around when he was bored. However, Derek didn’t swim anymore. Not unless there was a man overboard. Even then it wasn’t very enjoyable. He lost his heart. 

“Captain, a message from Miss Hale.” His second, a man that went by Boyd and nothing else, hurried toward him with a worried look on his face. Derek looked down at the scribbled information that the hawk brought. Their uncle was a con man with a crew, and showed them how to train hawks to take messages around where they wanted. The countries they now robbed didn’t have a clue as to how they were communicating. 

“It says she’s nearly cornered near the Southern Isles and needs backup.” Boyd summarized it and he nodded, reading fast. 

“Set course and tell the men to ready themselves.” He took the message and headed to his quarters, pulling out a map of the Southern Isles so he could start mapping out where she was and the notes she had on her attackers. There was a hawk waiting by his open window and he quickly scribbled out that he was coming. He tied it off to the birds legs and looked around, making sure once again that he was alone before he leaned forward, meeting the creatures eyes. 

“Tell her to hold them off for as long as possible.” He felt Lauras stress and could hear her message through the bird. It was easy for them to communicate this way, using their powers to lead the bird to carry their messages. It didn’t need parchment, but then again, it wasn’t like their crews weren’t accepting of them. They knew about them. It was best if they covered themselves. The death of a pirate was usually better than that of a witch. 

“I’m coming Laura, just hold on.” He let more of his emotions roll through him and he felt the one word from the hawk that made his stomach drop. Argent. A ship that chased them since their childhood. It wiped out their family, one by one until they and Cora were the only ones left. Cora remained on the shore, running a shop as a front for their money. She was safe, marrying a high-standing man and was happy with her husband and life. He pulled back and quickly exited after letting the hawk out of the window and shutting it tight. He spread out the maps, memorizing them all until he could see it in his head without looking at the maps and headed back out. He needed to captain his ship. 

“Isaac, go to my quarters and look at the placements and see if you can pull any of those crazy plans out of your ass. We are up against the best of the best. They’re taking us out one by one.” The man nodded and shot to the room without a word. The man never spoke. Derek heard him only once in his life, and that was to say his name because he didn’t know how to write it down. He made sure to include him the best he could when the young man himself was a little apprehensive with any decisions he had to make himself. He had work to do. 

The ocean was kind to him when he let his soul out, rolling with the waves and cutting through the water with the wind in the ships sail. He called it the Talia after his mother when he first became Captain. The crew weren’t happy with him but it proved to be the right choice when they were nearly captured but let go when because they didn’t have the right name. 

“There they are.” He could sense Laura on her own ship, her stress staining the air but she still held her head high, her eyes fierce as she stared out at the newest attack. Her ship was burning in a few places and he could tell from the grief and fury in the wind that they had losses. He shook off his own guilt and spread his power out to his crew, filling them with the way the others felt. The fight rose in them before they even realized what was happening and then they were circling her ship. 

Derek dipped his head to her once he was in her eyesight but then they were making a run. The Argents were ahead of them, not really going anywhere but her men were scrambling. She was aflame as well. Derek knew there were others out there as well that were getting ready to attack and back up the Argent but there was no going back. Their men shouted, the stench of their sweat in the air as the ships carved through the waves after their prey. It would be a hard won, but they’d rather die than turn back.  
============================================================================  
The battle was over. They were alive, the others weren’t so lucky. They still made a quick retreat. Derek couldn’t wait to wash the blood off of himself but he stayed awake as his wounded men were tended to and the others rested. Laura stayed awake on her own ship, staying near as they made their way to their home base. It would take a few days but he forced himself to stay awake. He was wounded, but he would be fine, using some of his power to heal himself slowly. If he healed himself quickly, he black out and leave his men without a leader. 

“How’re you doing little brother?” Lauras voice came to him over their connection. When they were closer to each other, it was easier for them to speak to each other with their power. He stretched his sense of exhausted relief out to her before pulling it around. 

“I’ll live. You?” Derek spoke to her and felt her own power wrap around him, checking him over. He relaxed as warmth rolled over and felt some of the stress from the battle bleed out of his body. Her laughter reached his ears and he felt her glee, but all he managed was a faint, thin-lipped smile as he shared a knowing look at Boyd. His second had a faint twitch but his eyes were alight with relieved glee. They both knew Laura was the more adventurous of the two of them. 

But even as Boyd walked away, the smile faded and he wrapped his power around himself to hide his change of mood. The island they were headed turned into their home off the ship was where they were heading. At first, he was ecstatic about being building it. Yet it was now lacking something. He used to wonder the beaches at peace, looking out at the ocean and listening to the way the ocean spoke to him. Now, he didn’t see that same thing. It was as if there was a missing piece that he couldn’t see, a part that was gone from his whole. He was lost without it. Maybe he just grew up to the world they were living in.   
=================================================================================  
The island wasn’t pretty. It didn’t look livable and he, completely on purpose yet everyone knew it was an accident, told people that it was inhabited by cannibals. No one dared to come near them. They used some use of a wrecked ship to make it looked like the people were attacked and long dead, half burning it to the ground. There was a small cove just large enough for them to hide their ships so they weren’t seen unless there was just the right angle. They even had a tiny dock. Still, Derek headed to the beach while everyone else made for the main house. He lifted his hand at a passing Erica who was heading to look at the ships to see what they needed to do to fix up the damage. It wasn’t until he was standing on the beach did he feel something in him unroll. 

There was barely room for two people to walk side by side without getting their feet wet. The rest was covered with trees so thick that he couldn’t see anything from a ship going by. Delight washed over him but his pace didn’t change, practically strolling along as he made his way to a rock. It stuck out enough so he could sit and not get his feet wet that was a few feet out from the beach. A soft hum filled the air and he settled down, stretching his legs out as he tilted his head back. His body was still injured but now that he was safe, he let his body heal with the help of his power. It nearly drained him completely and he slowly fell back, staring up at the light blue sky. 

“It’s back.” Derek let out a sigh as he closed his eyes, nearly feeling as though he was going to fall asleep right there with his body completely relaxed over the rock. He was still deciding if he was going to do just that when his brain registered the hum. Instant recognition washed over him when it became more of a voice singing, calling. He remembered what drew him to the waves so long ago and the most important aspect of their friendship, to keep his eyes closed. 

Wet yet soft hands brushed along his face and he tilted his head against them, rubbing his beard along them just because it felt nice. The humming was broken by soft laughter and lips pressed against his nose in a gentle kiss. A smile spread across his face but it was still being petted and he shivered. His shirt blew open in the breeze and the hands froze. Derek made a concerned noise when faint pinpricks of pain came from where the fingertips touched his face. He reached back with a hand but there was a splash. 

“Wha..?” Derek sat up and a hand clapped against his face, covering his eyes before he could do much of anything. He relaxed in a faint confusion. The other ripped his tunic off and he gasped, feeling the fingers tracing the new scars along his chest. Part of him was screaming at him to open his eyes and see what was touching him but he hummed low as the hands became persistent. He relaxed back until he was stretched out again, his body moving willing when he was examined.

A whistle came low above him and it seemed sad to him. Derek lifted his arms, gently grabbing the hand on his chest. He didn’t bother to take the one off his eyes, too scared that it would make it leave and reached out, holding onto what felt like a shoulder. A shoulder with a fin on it but without a doubt, it was definitely a shoulder. 

“I’ll be fine. They’re not going to wipe us out.” He murmured, breathing in and out as the creature leaned closer, pressing a forehead to his own after moving his hand. Derek warred with himself, fighting the urge to open his eyes again. There was a low growl that made him tense and then the creature jerked away, moving off with a splash. Derek sat up and looked around desperately, but it was gone. He made a defeated noise, unsure what to do. It was unlikely that he would ever see it. A soft voice sang out once again and the tension from the sudden departure drained from him as he turned toward it. The singer was nowhere to be seen yet it still felt like he could breathe again. 

“Thank you.” Derek called out and stood, stretching his worn muscles before making his way back to his crew. He had work to do. His little ocean spirit had returned.  
==============================================================================  
It was a long day of work as he headed to his quarters. Even though Isaac was a good actor, despite being a near mute, it wasn’t as hilarious as the others seemed to think it was to put on mock trails. He knew, something he wasn’t so sure they knew, that people in their profession didn’t often get trails anymore. They got a bullet to the head and tossed into the ocean. He didn’t mind anymore, only that fact that the creature would find his body. That was the only stress. Laura could handle herself but he didn’t know if he wanted the creature to know he was gone. On the other hand, if he did, then he wouldn’t be around the beaches anymore. 

He got to the door of his cabin before agony shot up his legs and they buckled under him. A shocked noise was forced from his lungs as he hit the door and sunk down, letting out pained moan until there was no longer breath in his lungs. His head started to spin and he tried to get his feet back under him. It took several minutes but he was standing with his entire weight against the door but it felt like his legs were blasted off with a cannonball. He’s seen it. It wasn’t pretty, but his legs were unharmed. 

“We got something.” A voice shouted but he kept his head down. Boyd appeared by his side a minute later and grabbed his arm with a blank face. Derek turned to stare at him, trying to understand what was being said through the pain but then he reached out and clapped his hand on his seconds shoulder, using him to hold himself up. 

“You need to see this.” Was all he caught when Boyd took a step back. Derek cringed as he walked, placing his weight on his seconds shoulder as he moved. The steps were nearly impossible to make his way up and he hated it as he limped over the deck. He was a second away from ripping his boots off to see what had happened but he had worn them all day. There shouldn’t be a problem now. They marched up the steps and Derek didn’t bother to hide his panting breaths. His crew had gathered in a circle around a net they used to catch fresh fish.

“What is it?” The crowd parted and his stomach dropped. He looked down at the most beautiful face that he had ever seen. It was strangely blurred around the edges but he could see the creature had a fish like tail that was leaving a massive pool of blood around them, staining the net that was used to bring it in. His mind instantly snapped to the creature on the beach and he knew. 

“Der’k” The creature hiss through his too sharp teeth and his legs finally gave out. “Sorry, killed us. Couldn’t escape.” Derek fell forward, his second catching him enough so he didn’t knock himself out. He turned his head to the side, gasping as he saw a massive bite out of the side of the creature. The creature that knew his name. 

“Stiles!” He whispered out, receiving a weakened smile and laugh before his large caramel eyes rolled in the back of his head. Derek closed his own as the darkness caved into his mind. He sighed as agony raced up his spine and he was no longer crouched on the deck, but stretched out flat with a numbness after a certain spot along his side while the rest of him was tangled uselessly in a net. Derek could feel Stiles with him, a strange singing in his head and he reached out to him in his mind. “I didn’t want to see you this way. I was too scared you’d leave if you I tried.” Stiles was crying. He could just see the tears in his mind, feeling his own heart breaking. 

“My siren of the sea.” He wished he could touch but he wasn’t able to move either of them. The darkness was swirling around them too fast and then he was alone. He felt the creatures body empty of its loving soul and then he snapped back to his own.

“Captain.” Several voices were shouting at him but he kept his eyes closed. It would be fast this time. He didn’t know dying could feel like being in a boat at sea. Everything was moving, bowing like waves and he tumbled in, letting the cool darkness wash over him like sea mist. Stiles was waiting for him and he followed blindly, willingly into his death.   
====================================================================================  
Stiles jerked up and grabbed his legs, running his hands over them over and over until he realized they were legs and not a tail. They still burned and his breath rattled in his chest as if he was still drowning in the air on the ships deck. The seal was too fast, ripping into his side and then he was caught in the pirates net. This time he couldn’t shake it off. It wasn’t logical that he was alive. He had no idea what happened to Derek. He looked around and realized he passed out on Scotts bed and his friend had stayed asleep, snoring into his chemistry book on his pillow next to him. 

Stiles let out a snort and swung his legs off, limping quietly to the bathroom. He had a rough idea of what to look for now. The light was brighter than he remembered and he stumbled out of his pants, leaving his boxers on before sitting on the toilet. His legs wouldn’t hold up any longer. 

“What the Hell?” He couldn’t stop his voice from coming out pained as his eyes skittered across the near bloody lines along his legs from the fish net. There was a pink scar where he was bit by the creature. The thing moved so fast that he had no idea what got him, but one thing was certain. It couldn’t be just a dream if this happened twice. He didn’t know how long he could do this. Every time he thought about the princely Derek dying in a field as a war raged around him, the red mark on his chest would flare with pain. There were times where he refused to move as his mind raced through the dream as waves of agony rippled through his body. 

“Stiles?” There was a knock at the door and he looked up, letting out a whine when his sight was blurred through unwilling tears. The door cracked open and Melissa stuck her head in. A second later she was in the small room and kneeling by his side. “What happened?” Her hands hovered over one of the lines on his thigh and wrapped around to his calf. Stiles whimpered before a sob escaped and he grabbed her, shaking as he tried to blank his mind. It was the only way to make the red leave. There was still blood smeared over his body and boxers.

“Stiles, please” Melissa held him with one hand, shifting him to her shoulder so she could still see his legs as she examined them. After a few seconds where Stiles forced himself to think about how much the woman was there for him and not any dying on a deck, she let out a gasp and he pulled back. 

“Are they gone yet?” He tilted back, staring at the ceiling before he started to scrub his face. It was repeating itself. 

“What are they?” Stiles let out a sudden chuckle at her mom voice before letting his hands drop. 

“I don’t know. I had a nightmare about dying while tangled in a net and I woke up to this. My legs hurt and I’m so thirsty.” He rolled his head to the side and smiled sadly at her. “It’s most likely a side effect to everything supernatural that’s happened. It’s not the first time.”

“What?” She glanced at the marks, making him do the same. They weren’t gone completely but turned a soft pink all around and he nodded before quickly lifting his shirt to keep his mind off them. He hoped she wouldn’t ask about the ripping bitemark that was just a bright pink scar now. 

“This one was an arrow from the last time I dreamed of a death. It wasn’t my own like these ones are.” He poked the mark with a finger and cringed as it flared red before he focused on her face. “I can’t think about them.”

“This is serious Stiles” She held onto his arms and he shook his head. 

“I can’t think about them or they get worse. I’ve been looking for a reason and I’ve told my dad about the first one but every time I think about the dream it makes the wounds hurt.” Stiles tilted his head back again and let out a rough breath. “I didn’t expect it to happen again.”

“Is there anyone you can talk to about this?” Melissa sat back and he shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it anymore. He wanted to write it down and compare it to his other life. He was frustrated that he couldn’t remember the past lives when his other part was dying, just that he knew he was seeing them. The person he wanted most was Derek, but he was gone. 

“I can look around. I need to rest between these… whatever they are.” Stiles went to stand but Melissa was fast, grabbing his arm when his legs started to wobble under him. She somehow moved him down the hall and back into the room without too much effort from him. The fact that she was a nurse flickered through his mind and he realized how lucky he was that she was there. He flopped into the bed and shoved Scott over, the werewolf nearly falling off before he fell still again. 

“Geez man. You’d think he’d wake up.” Stiles chuckled low, stretching his legs out as he tried to ease the rest of the tension out. He sagged back into the bed and tilted his head back, doing his best to put her at ease. “See, all better.”

“Well, fine. Just make sure I see you before you leave in the morning.” Melissa patted his shoulder and he nodded, knowing that she was going to hold him to it. Even as she left he felt the gut clinching fear from what was happening to him wash over him and he sucked in a rough breath, turning his head to hide the sound of his breaths in his pillow. 

“My siren of the sea.” Stiles rolled over and looked at the ceiling, Dereks words echoing in his head as he did. The pain from the net started to ache but he didn’t care, remembering the captains eyes as they shifted, seeing him with that pain and it was all he could do to keep breathing. 

“Siren?” Scott rolled over to look at him and Stiles scowled at him. 

“Of course, you wake up for that.” Stiles sighed, ignoring his drowsy brother in attempt to get some sleep. Scott tried to ask again but he barely formed the words before passing out again. He turned to look at him, a little annoyed that it was so easy for him to fall asleep and ended up with the decision not to tell him until he knew more. As much as Stiles was trying to keep the pack together, Scott was doing just as much so they didn’t need this added stress. He passed out eventually, yet it was dreamless with the added pain from his wounds snaking into his empty mind.

The next morning he woke with only a dull ache but he felt better. He met Melissa in the kitchen and gave a better explanation on what happen. He snagged some breakfast, drinking several cups of water before he fled her slew of question. It put him even more on edge. His bite burned the most as he slipped into his jeep and then he quickly raced away. He tried to keep it under the speed limit but he wanted to talk to his father before he left for work. Pulling up to the empty driveway made his stomach drop but he made his way inside and set up his laptop. 

The grimoire and bestiary had nothing that helped him. He spent hours searching about what their connected souls could mean online but most he got was fanfic AU and writing prompts that drove him up the wall on how stupid they were to him. It took him a moment to relax but then he was stressed out about the fact that he wasted half his day not finding anything relevant. 

“Alright, think. The siren won’t really have anything but maybe the prince.” He leaned back in his computer chair, rubbing at the arrow wound as it flared up but he leaned forward again and started typing everything he could remember. After another hour of nothing he realized he was searching the wrong thing and narrowed it to Kate and Dereks relationship and the war, plus a guess of the time period it was in. It turns out there were an almost innumerable wars and battles so long ago. It also turns out the names were different but he found a few pictures that could be paintings of Derek. He remembered one vaguely that it might be. Stiles eventually narrowed it down more but then he was at a loss on what to do with the information. It could be his Derek, but he needed more information on it. A knock on his door tore him away from the computer and he turned to see his father standing there, looking around at the mess Stiles made. 

“Son, Melissa called me today.” His father spoke without stepping into the room and he cringed, shoveling away from the computer to face the door completely. 

“I had another nightmare. It turns out when I get them, I get the injuries that killed us in the nightmare.” He lifted his shirt, one of the most worn and lighter ones that he had since everything was tender, and showed off the large bite to the side of his stomach. 

“What the…” His father’s voice shook and he looked down at himself. 

“It was something in the water. It shook its head so it could’ve been worse. There are marks along here from a net that pulled me from the water but…. I’m not sure where this is going. I’ve been searching for anything similar that can help but it’s not looking good.” He poked the newer marks on his side as well as the lines along his legs and arms. “That’s from the arrow. I didn’t see it right away.” He prodded the sore spot and sighed, letting himself fall limp into the seat. He didn’t want to mention Derek again. That might push this situation into heart attack territory. 

“You’re being injured by these dreams?” His father croaked out and he shrugged again. 

“I guess. I’ve looked into it but… there’s absolutely nothing. I’m… hungry.” He scowled at his screen, reading that it was long past lunch time and all he had that day was a small breakfast. 

“You’ve been researching all day, huh?” He sat down and Stiles nodded. 

“I’ll start dinner.” He got to his feet and wobbled as he walked to his door. 

“Why don’t we go get something out and you can explain in the car?” His father followed him and asked in his dad voice that told him that was exactly what they were going to do. For a moment he was torn on what he wanted to do but then he nodded and pulled on his jacket. They made their way back to the cruiser and headed out. They had a five minute argument about where to go but ended up at his fathers favorite joint. After a few minutes of silence his father cleared his throat and he sighed, looking out the window.

“This last dream I was a siren, like mermaid, and Derek was a pirate captain. There was a lot going on that I didn’t know but…” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I remember I had to leave the Caribbean because of those who were hunting the pirates. There were too many battles going on. When I got back we were grown so I followed his ship around, trying to figure out why he had more scars. I wasn’t paying attention and got a shark bite. The crew pulled me abord the ship and well, I didn’t last long since I couldn’t breath while bleeding out.” He spoke mostly to the window, knowing he was stressing his father out but they promised each other to be honest so he was doing his best. 

“And the nightmare from before?” He asked stiffly but Stiles shrugged. 

“Arrow through the chest during a war.” He knew it was stupid but he could almost see the way the princely Derek smiled at him before he left. It made his heart break in his chest as he remembered all the times that his Derek left him, never promising to return or even cracking his mask of annoyance. The wolf led a life where he had no one to smile at, no one to call home to return too. 

“And you’ve found nothing that could’ve caused this?” His father clenched the wheel tighter in his grip and he stared at him for a second before digging through the food bags, pulling out a bunch of French fries. Maybe if he acted a little more like his old self it would calm his old man down. 

“Not yet. It’s just a day of research but I’ve been a little frazzled so I might not be looking into the right thing. I’ll get it in the end.” He jammed the food into his mouth, which actually tasted great since he was starving and barely chewed before swallowing it down. 

“But you already looked in the books.” His father never missed a detail but he waved it off. 

“Nah, we never encountered anything like this before. Most of the supernatural books from around here burned in the fire. Deaton is the last one and I’ve already read most of his books to make a new pack bestiary for us to use and improve on but…. Nothing that I can remember. I have to call him about any new information.” He started digging more intently through the bags, finding out his father ordered a lot more food then they could possibly eat so he grabbed his entire fry package and started munching. 

“What about the other packs you’ve mentioned? Do they still those books that you can borrow?” Stiles wrinkled his nose at the thought of that political nightmare his father just mentioned before shrugging. 

“We would have to be on very good terms with them so I’m not sure if…. We don’t have our Alpha anymore so they will most likely not let me take a peek, even if Deaton and Scott try to help. I’m still human after all and hunters are human. They won’t trust me.” He explained a little roughly but his father seemed to get the picture. 

“The best kept secrets are safe with their family.” He nodded along while muttering and Stiles chuckled low. 

“You were in them too. Turns out you loved swimming in kelp forests and up rivers to talk to little kids. But I was never allowed to talk to humans.” He waggled his eyebrows at him, which made his father give him a tired smile. 

“Well, it sounds like you’ve always been a handful.” The Sheriff stole a fry when they stopped at the last stop sign before their house. The whole thing made him chuckle low and dump the rest of his fries in his mouth to save them from more thievery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment with what you think. XP


	3. What's happening?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is at a loss on what to do.

His job wasn’t what he wanted with his life. But there was a depression going on and he was lucky he got a job with his father. He was called the Sheriff but he wasn’t in the law enforcement anymore. Stiles himself was more than a little young for the position but it would be fine. It had to be fine. His mother had already died, too weak from lack of food to fight off a strange sickness. He didn’t even know what caused it, and he spent a month on the streets traveling to find his father to tell him. In that month he met a man by the sur name Hale twice. Each time the man tried to rob him but would stop, instead talking until they couldn’t anymore. It drove Stiles insane, yet he was faced with a problem. His new job. One he needed very much but also hated beyond everything. 

He was meant to be guarding the Argents, a family he knew did the Hales wrong. If he didn’t do the job, he would starve and most likely his father as well. In all likelihood, they’d be dispatched. It should be an easy yes. He only met the man twice, but now every time he thought about agreeing his stomach would turn at the sight of those impossible eyes turning cold. The thing was, he couldn’t say no. He had to work. He knew it wasn’t exactly legal what they were doing, and he hated alcohol but the Argents moved the stuff. It was his job to watch their backs, but the only reason why he was so set on doing it was the fact that his father was doing it. 

“Son, time to go.” The man called from the door and Stiles shook himself, straightening his work uniform which was simply the nicest clothes that he had and went to where he was waiting. The Sheriff looked tired, his life long and filled with strife. He still drank like a he was trying to drown himself, but Stiles could see the way his eyes started to go blank, the white of blindness creeping in. There was the smell of death on him but Stiles kept his face blank as he passed, knowing if he brought it up that it would only be worse. He did arch his eyebrow at him.

“You know little.” His father shot him a silencing look and he bowed his head, sighing low as they walked down to the stone sidewalk. A lot of the buildings where they lived were falling apart, yet as they moved more toward the Argents estates, they became nicer, more effort put into the construction and maintenance. It made him sick knowing that there were people starving yet people still had more money than they could possibly do anything with in their entire lifetimes. There was nothing he could do but make sure the food was on his table for his little family, and try to stop his father from drinking too much in their one room living area. 

“She wants you in the office.” A man who everyone called Butler, but Stiles knew had blood on his hands ushered them in and frowned at their casual attire. Stiles smiled sweetly and raised his eyebrows as he was scowled at but then they were following him to the office. Everything in the mansion was to the highest degree and he found himself stepping lightly, too much on edge. The weight of the gun on his hip helped, as well as the one strapped to his ankle and the handful of knives hidden on his person. 

“Thank you Butler. Sheriff and…the son.” Kate Argent was sitting at the desk in a tight-fitting dress that flowed from her hips and a shawl over her shoulders. She looked like she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, not the silver pistol she had in her hand. And she wasn’t one to hesitate. 

“You wanted to see us?” His father dipped his head respectfully and he ducked his head the same way. He kept it down as much as he was able, hiding his face. 

“I want you to go to a farm. It’s on some old land that we bought to set up some work using the barn” She spoke sweetly but Stiles barely kept his face passive. Who knows what happened to that family who used to live there? It certainly couldn’t be a farm that was still productive if it was just being used to produce moonshine and store it. He nodded along as they were told to move off and they ducked away, slipping out the back to the garage. 

“You know how to drive, right?” His father muttered as they were handed the keys and he shrugged. The cars were all the newer kind, beautiful and shiny but he quickly headed over to the old pickup that would fit into farm life better. They honestly had a few that had seen better days, the doors riddled with bullet holes and dirty brown stains in the seats. He didn’t want to think about who didn’t make it out. They obviously weren’t good people, but he wasn’t the best at this point. 

“It’s just the start to the new day. It’s fine.” His father soothed and he swung into the pickup. They tore out into the street and headed off to the farm. Stiles stared out the window most of the ride, sighing as the city turned into a rolling hills and farm lands with his father giving the occasional direction. He didn’t want to talk to his father at the moment. He rarely talked at all anymore. He was starting to see how life was worth drinking away. 

“Hale farms.” His father pointed at a driveway and he jerked his hand to the side, turning to see a flash of a sign with the name written proudly on it. His stomach dropped as he saw a beautiful house that was old, but still cared for. The entire property felt loved. He wasn’t even sure how the Hales lost the farm to the Argents but he knew it wasn’t legal or right. Derek was homeless and scrabbling to feed his family. Stiles stepped out of the pickup and slowly walking toward the house. 

“We’re going to be living here for a while, picking up the loads and storing them here. A different crew is to come and take it into the city.” His father nodded to the house and he ducked his head down with a sigh, trudging forward. He felt tired already but his mind was whirring.

Inside the house made his stomach turn. It was still full of the family’s life. There was a rocking chair in one corner of the living area with a half-finished knitting project next to it. The books cases were full and there were still some pictures on the walls. One was of what looked like the whole family, three rows of people and Stiles found the Hale he knew and turned his head away in shame. 

Stiles walked back out of the house without saying a word. His father didn’t call after him and he trotted away, slipping into the barn. There was a horse. He blinked at it before stretching a hand out. A second passed before it greeted him, pushing her muzzle into his hand and he smiled, petting her happily. Looking around her, he wrinkled his nose at her dirty stall. He pulled back and walked around until he found some gear. His mother took him to a farm where he learned how to ride and care for the animals. He worked there as a farm hand until she had a bad feeling about the farmers older son and missing younger boys so they moved. They always moved. 

“Here, come.” Stiles murmured softly, putting the harness on and walked her to a clean but empty stall. Even though it was the first words he spoke for the past few weeks but it was to something that needed the words. There was a field next to the barn but he didn’t know if the fence would hold so he wouldn’t let her out until he could walk it. He made a mental list to walk the field as well to make sure there was nothing out there that would hurt her. Stiles went back to the stall and got to work, scraping the stall clean and shoveling the excess into a wheelbarrow. It took him almost an hour to finish and find everything he needed to feed the horse and the waterspout to fill her buckets. 

“Here,” Stiles greeted her again and breathed with her, calming her down. He walked her around the barn a few times before leading her back to her improved stall. He grabbed a brush and headed back, brushing her down and letting her get used to him. She was skinner than he liked but she’d be fine now that he was there. 

“Stiles?” His father called out and he turned, pulling the harness off with one last pat and stepped out. His father found him as he hung it up outside the stall and looked around the barn. The other stalls needed to be clean and he nodded to the man, picking up the bucket and moved off to work. 

“We’re moonshiners.” The man muttered at him and Stiles shrugged and didn’t say anything. He put the remaining tackle away and started on the other stalls. It was midday when he was done, placing the excess in a compost pile. He washed up but couldn’t force himself to go back into the house so he started back out into the field to look for anything that needed to be fixed. 

“I’m going back into town to pick up a few things to settle in here. Anything you need from the house?” His father called and he thought hard before shaking his head. There wasn’t anything at the house he needed. He didn’t have anything. He went back to what he was doing, spending the rest of his day making sure that the field was safe. 

After a while he let the horse out of the stall, letting her trot around. He left her to do her horse things and went to check the loft of the barn. There were some fixes that he needed to do but they could wait. She was safe for the moment and he headed up to rest. He didn’t expect to be thrown into the hay. He didn’t bother to pick himself up, twisting around to look up.

“What are you doing here?” A voice boomed out and he tensed for a heartbeat before going limp, recognizing the man standing above him. 

“My father was hired by the Argents to care for this farm. They’re moving moonshine but I… I don’t know how to get out of it.” Stiles didn’t bother to lie as he sat up, resting his arms on his knees and hunching forward. “I found out it was your home when I got here. Found the horse.” He nodded to the field and Hales face twitched. Stiles took the time to scoot to the side so he could press his back against the wall. 

“Moonshine?” Hale hissed low and he ducked his head down in a miserable nod.

“The Argents… I don’t know what he did, but if either of us leaves, we’re dead.” Stiles rested his head on his knees, not caring as the man started pacing in front of him but then he heaved a sigh before sitting next to him. They both stared forward for several minutes without saying anything. It was the farmer who broke the silence. 

“You… got in deep.” Derek said low and he nodded weakly. 

“I just want… I want… Nothing. I don’t want anything anymore.” Stiles tilted his head back until he was resting on the barn wall. “I don’t want to go in your house. I haven’t eaten all day and I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know, kit.” He leaned against the man, feeling better. He took a deep breath and tried not to let tears fill his eyes. There was no time for tears or emotions. 

“Der, I think you can hide in here. My fathers gone for the moment. I don’t know when he’ll be back but…” Stiles stopped when he turned and looked at the man. Derek grabbed his hand to stop him from talking and leaned forward slowly, his eyes bright. Then there was a kiss pressed against his lips. Stiles pulled back even when it was obvious that Derek didn’t want him too. He smacked his lips together and hummed, thinking hard for a second before he turned and tugged the man back toward him. 

“Thanks for my first kiss.” He muttered against his lips and felt more than heard the man gasp. He yanked him closer, clumsily kissing as they fell back to the scrapes of hay. Derek groaned softly and he gasped, feeling the man spread his legs. 

“Wanted to kiss you for years. Wanted to make you mine.” Derek pulled back, his hand dragging down his chest and spreading his legs more. 

“We shouldn’t.” Stiles whispered but the man started kissing his chin and down his neck, making him go slack. 

“The world wants us to starve and doesn’t care when we die, so they can’t stop me from loving you just because of some stupid belief that drove the world to this.” Derek nibbled down his collar bone and slipped his fingers under his tunic. 

“Spiteful love?” Stiles murmured questioningly before he found himself nodding. “I don’t want to die without knowing what it’s like.” 

“You’ll know. I haven’t before, with anyone, but I want to with you.” Derek shuttered above him and Stiles smiled, tilting his head back as he reached out. He didn’t care what happened to him anymore as long as he was able to keep going. He’d keep going for Hale. He’d talk for Hale.  
===================================================================================  
The first shipment arrived and there was a deputy there to watch from the safety of the barn. Stiles unloaded the boxes in silence, hearing the clinking of the bottles and set them into a stall. The horse snorted at him and stamped her hooves, so when he passed by he’d give her a pat on the head. She wasn’t happy with the men who kept walking in and out with the boxes but he clicked at her, turning his head to watch the men so they wouldn’t hurt her. They spoke to him and he stared back blankly, nodding to his father who would answer their questions and he continued to unload. The old man didn’t know anything. 

They left quickly and he headed back to the barn, taking care of the horse, and started cleaning out more of the stalls. The deputy slipped down and Stiles ignored him as he started to brush the horse down. Derek was still up in the loft and he sighed as the deputy ducked out without a word. He didn’t know if he should trust the man, but it didn’t matter to him. He was going to die sooner or later when his father slipped up, might as well take control of his own life and take some of the bastards with him on his way out. For Derek at least. 

“Stiles?” A voice sounded from behind him and he glanced over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow at him. The old man stared at him sadly before nodding his head and leaned against the doorframe. 

“I’ll take the fall when the Argents find out. Just, watch your back.” His father begged and Stiles huffed, hooking a lead up to the harness on the horse and stepping past the old man. “I know I’ve made mistakes with my life. You aren’t one, even if I messed it up with some things with you and your mother. I didn’t mean to work with the Argents. I just needed the money.” He ignored him as he walked pass, taking the horse to the pasture to walk around. He cleared it the day before. “Please son. I don’t want you to live like I have.” 

“Who said I planned on living?” Stiles asked, the first time he spoke to his father in almost a year. The horse snorted against his side and he stepped through the gate. He unhooked the harness and patted her shoulder as she trotted away, off to explore the changes he made. It was a simple fix for a few fences and a tugging a massive water bucket closer so he could fill it. The rest was just fine for her. He wondered if his father wanted to talk more but then there was a door slamming in the house and he guessed not. Excitement rolled in his stomach but he forced himself to walk calmly back to the barn and put everything away. The loft was warm in the heat of the day. 

“Thank you for putting her out. Cora would be so… deadly if she was alive to see Bet like this.” Derek sat by the open window and Stiles glanced out to see a clear view of the pasture before he settled against the wall on the other side of the window, stretching his legs out and heaved a sigh. 

“Thank you for talking to the man.” He pressed his lips together and turned to look out at the horse as well. “Bet?” 

“Yeah.” Derek chuckled low, turning to look at him with a smile on his face. “About two years ago she made a bet with a boy that fancied her that she’d get a kiss before he did. The person who won got a filly that was born in the boys barn. The father was there and Cora went and kissed his sister. The father thought it was so hilarious that she outsmarted him that he handed it over. The boy had to wait to see if the mare bred again the next year to get a horse of his own. She called the horse Bet just to spite him more.” The man gushed and Stiles grinned, loving to hear him speak. It was nice. He didn’t dare ask anything about what happened. It didn’t matter to him and he wasn’t going to be the one to bring up the past and break the man. 

“That’s great. I remember one time my mother was told she didn’t pay rent and they were going to kick us out. She did, but he wanted more money. He forgot she used to cook for the street kids and they robbed him and gave her everything. She payed him back in his own money, looking him in the eye and he couldn’t say anything because we had Parish there, who was a copper we were friends with. She made him write down and sign that he received his payments for the next two months.” Stiles smiled, tilting his head back as he smiled at the ceiling. “People didn’t expect her to be ruthless, but she did everything she could to protect me.” 

“I don’t think people expect you to be so smart when you barely speak.” Derek muttered softly and he let out a snort. 

“Nor you be so kind when you always look a second away from murder.” He chuckled low at his own joke but he could feel the waves of disappointment rolling off the man slumped next to him. 

“Stiles, I’m serious, you’re too smart to be caught up in this. You should be doing something with that brain of yours. Make a life that you want to live.” Derek reached out and he shook his head, reaching his hand up without thinking and holding onto it. 

“Der, I’m not… I’m not…” He breathed deep, turning to look at him. He couldn’t explain how he was feeling. Derek grew up knowing that he had his farm to care for. That should’ve been his life. But then it was taken away from him. Stiles grew up doing everything he could to give his mother a better life, but then she died and he was loss on what to do next. He knew he loved the man, mainly because he made him feel something more. He never planned on surviving to adulthood. Not with the way the world was. 

“I know.” Derek spoke softly. “I know you don’t have plans for anything. That you live day by day because of the Argents. But you don’t have to.” He lifted his hand that was clutching Stiles and he swallowed, shifting so he was closer to the farmer. 

“I think I can manage something, if you would want to help?” Stiles took his shot. The beaming smile was worth it and he sighed in relief. The night was young but they didn’t do much other than doze in each others arms. Stiles had to get up briefly to fetch some food and open the door so Bet could go in and out of a stall that led outside as she pleased. But she seemed happy to just stand in the field and he left her too it. They ended up cuddling until they fell asleep. 

“Stiles.” He jerked awake, grumbling against the light the was in his eyes when he turned and tried to open them. The arms around him tightened and he smiled, curling tighter around the warmth and tried to hide his face so the sun would stop making his head pound. 

“STILES!” This time he jerked up so he was sitting, a hand falling on the knife he had on his hip but then Derek sat up next to him. The farmer smacked his lips together before freezing. They both stared up at his father who was standing above them with his arms crossed over his chest and a furious look on his face. 

“Uh, this is Derek Hale. He used to live here.” Stiles felt the roughness in his voice and glanced at said man. Derek was shaking uncontrolabily and he leaned against him just barely in hopes that it would calm him down. The man looked a second away from dying of an attack. 

“Stiles please go to the house.” His father sounded dark and he instantly started shaking his head. He couldn’t leave Derek alone when he was like this. Let alone with his father when he didn’t really know the man. 

“What about…” He started but Derek grabbed his hand, silencing him. 

“Listen, both of you. The deputies plan on coming back. I just received word that they already arrested some of the Argents and that they want to get the carriers tonight when they come. I want Hale gone by then so he’s not considered a suspect and we can work on getting his farm back to the rightful family. Stiles, you are not to come into this barn until then.” His father was shaking now and he just stared at him. 

“Why?” He expected a shot to the chest for being found with Derek. Or something equally deadly since there were laws against such things. 

“Because I refuse to lose you!” His father practically exploded, and he shrank back against Derek who was still completely frozen. “You go against such a powerful family as the Argents because this one lost his farm! You think I don’t know what you did last night? You still have the marks on your neck and we both know the laws. You can’t do this. What if one of the deputies came up here looking for you instead of me? They’d kill you on the spot or arrest you. Do you think being in jail would stop the Argents from taking revenge? It won’t.” The old man stopped, breathing deep. 

“I’m sorry.” Derek whispered. It broke Stiles heart that the man was regretful of their love but it was to be expected.

“Don’t be sorry. Be gone. I don’t want to see your face here again. You’ve put my son in even more danger than he was before and that it unacceptable.” His father pointed at the ladder as he spoke and Stiles instantly started shaking his head. 

“What? No. It was my idea. It’s not his fault.” He protested but Derek held his hand a little tighter before letting go completely. The farmer stood, nodding silently to his father before stepping past. “NO!” Stiles scrambled to his feet but Derek was somehow already by the front doors. He shoved past his father even as the man was grabbing him, telling him it was for the best. He practically fell down the ladder, panic making his actions bumbling as he chased after the man. Derek was paused at the door, his hands raised up and shoulders tense. It was enough to make him pause. 

“Hale, long time.” Kate purring voice sounded and he finally did grab his knife. In one smooth motion, he stepped out of the barn and threw. There was a wet thud when it struck her in the chest, the handle wobbling right over her heart. The gun dropped to the dirt as she cried out in surprise. But then he saw a deputies car making it’s way up the drive, and had a clear view of everything. Stiles grabbed Dereks arm as he tensed, ready to bolt away from the officer but it would make things worse. 

“Son.” His father arrived at his side and he shook him off, checking Derek over to see if he was injured. The deputies jumped out of the car and raced up to them asking what happened as Kate tumbled to the ground. 

“She’s an Argent. She brought him here to kill him because she thought he was the one who turned their operation in. I… I had to do something.” He looked down at her as she gurgled. 

“Hale scum.” She spat out, spraying blood everywhere and his father snorted. 

“You must really hate them if you’re using your last words to curse him out instead of the man who killed you.” His father sneered down at her but her eyes were already rolling in the back of her head and he sighed. 

“I was aiming for the gun.” He lied again and Derek patted his shoulder. 

“Is it wrong for me to be grateful that you missed? Thank you for saving my life” The farmer smiled warmly before turning to the deputies. “What can I do to help? This young man did just safe my life.” 

“Yes well, we’ll have to report this.” One spoke and Stiles bowed his head in embarrassment and disappointment. He’d never get to really say goodbye to the man now. He glanced up at his father but the man shook his head at him. It suddenly felt like his mouth was sewn shut, his tongue heavy as if he was ill.   
===================================================================  
Stiles paced along the wooden podium. His father was there to help explain the take down of the Argents, but that was dangerous. It happened so he was lucky that his father was still alive and that he got a job as an officer and his father received an award. The man even stopped drinking, only having a sip with the big men they were meeting. However, he wasn’t so sure it was so different from his old job, needing to sit up with a bunch of the higher ups while they discuss another issue without fixing it. 

He had another problem on his mind however. Derek Hale. It was an ache in him and he couldn’t take his mind from the farmer. His father blocked his attempts of finding him but he couldn’t. He did get word that the family was back in the rightful home but he knew that Derek wasn’t there anymore. He wasn’t home and that was a problem. 

Then his entire body went numb. His eyes widened briefly in shock as everything flickered from his sight and he saw the flash of the bottom of a train. Then he was seeing the wood from the platform. He couldn’t move. Past lives with the man flashed through his head along with the knowledge that he was dead. It happened so fast that he didn’t know what he was meant to do. He wanted to call out, get help but there wasn’t much to be done at this point. 

Someone found him after a while, their footsteps racing up across the wood so he could feel it and then he was being turned over. It took him a second but he opened his eyes. He could see the poor women talking to him but he barely processed what she said. He could only blink as she lifted her head, shouting loudly. She looked like someone from the past lives. To hazard a guess, she was usually called Allison, or of the sorts. Scott appeared in his field of vision and he realized they never met before. They were strangers, meeting at his death. He’d hope they’d make it together like before. He didn’t even know Scott before this. 

They could see him blinking and eventually carried him away. He was tucked into a bed and his father was called. A doctor came and looked him over. Stiles blinked rapidly when he was about to poke him with a needle but then nothing happened. He couldn’t feel it. The man stabbed and stabbed but Stiles didn’t even flinch. He closed his eyes after a while, wondering if he was ever going to gain enough strength to tell his father that he was fine with his passing. He lost the love of his life already. 

When he blinked them open again, it was dark. It wasn’t the first time that he was annoyed that his death was slow. If he was honest with himself, he was a little worried. For the past three lives, they never did anything with their feelings. If it continues, who knows what would happen. He loved the man, yet they never did anything about it. Stiles was scared. The depression meant people blamed others. But it was everything to take him to stop thinking about the people he couldn’t help. He thought Derek was one of those, yet he repeatedly found himself returning for the kisses, the way their bodies moved together, how they hid from the world that didn’t care anymore.

“But he’s gone. They’re gone. Always gone.” He slurred out and a hand landed on his arm. Stiles turned his head to the side, seeing his father sitting on the bed next to him. “You drink, you’ll die. Please don’t.”

“What will I do without you?” The mans voice was rough and Stiles forced breath into his lungs, knowing that the man will most likely die within a year. Even though the drinks were rare, the damage had been done. 

“Protect those who can’t… Be a father to someone else. Love someone and live a life that would make me proud. That would make mom proud.” He tried and closed his eyes, tears dripping down. A hand clutched to his but he shook, falling into nothingness.  
================================================================================  
This time when he woke, Stiles didn’t bother to move. He expected pain but he felt numb. He was in the library at the school, trying to study for a test but all he didn’t even bother lifting his head from where it fell onto a book. The visions of their lives were getting shorter, taking less and less time for him to move his way through them and it was the first time that they happened a day apart. It was time to leave. 

“Stilinski?” Danny sat next to him and he huffed, twitching an eye at him before staring at the wall in front of him. “Come one Stiles, you were crying in your sleep.” The teen reached over to hand him a tissue and he nodded, sniffing as he sat up. 

“I keep having nightmares of death.” He murmured low, trying to keep silent considering that they were in the library and who knows who was listening. 

“As in, people who are dead or people who are alive and you’re scared of losing?” Danny was calm and put together and Stiles suddenly missed Derek all the more. He pulled his notebook closer and started to scribble some notes on what he saw in the past life. 

“Both? Derek and I are always connected. When he dies, I die. His wounds become my wounds, and vise versa. I could see what it was like to be hit by a train. It happened so fast and he… it was during the depression. I ran moonshine because my father owed a powerful family. It’s the third time now.” Stiles shook his head as he tried to remember the bits but he tried to avoid all the sex he had. It was something that was too painful to think about when he knew the man was gone. 

“It’s just a bad dream” Danny sounded confused but trying to soothing but Stiles lifted up his shirt. There were massive scars along his body where Derek’s was ripped apart, just missing the arrow wound in his chest. Even as they stared, the scars faded into nothing, far too intense to linger more. The bite was still there, but still not a prominent as the arrow to the heart.

“It’s a past life of mine. I think Derek is dying somewhere, and when he goes, I go.” He dropped his shirt back down and put his head to the table, closing his eyes. “But I can’t find him. I don’t know where to go, where to start. I can’t call the pack because I don’t know what’s happening.” He spent weeks after returning from Mexico looking, calling and trying everything he could think of to get his friend back, but he stopped when the dreams started. 

“Well, I can see what I can do.” Danny pulled out a laptop and Stiles tilted his head to the side. 

“Thanks man. I think I should tell Scott soon. He’s going to panic.” 

“I thought he was busy with… whatever his new crush is.” He waved his hand and Stiles sighed. It was true his friend was busy, but he didn’t know what he was going to do without more help. There wasn’t even a clear way to being the explanation of what was happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think so far. One more to go.


	4. When the Wolf comes to the door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, multiple gory and sad deaths. Including when they're kids. So beware. Final chapter too.

The war was hard. He wasn’t sure why he even bothered to try and survive. He had no one to return home to anymore but he kept fighting. His captain was slouched next to him, holding a bandage onto his arm that was bleeding faintly. They had lost men so they were mostly silent, but Stiles was fighting to stay awake. The pain was a dull throbbing but he wanted to make sure their leader was solid before anything else happened. For the most part, the night was silent. It was more toward morning and all the dying or injured men had been taken away so their groans were no longer close enough for them to hear. 

“Why didn’t you bring this to attention earlier?” Captain Hale asked and it took him a minute to think of his reply. He lost a lot of blood while helping the others so he wasn’t thinking straight. 

“I honestly didn’t know it happened. I’ll be fine in a little while.” He tried to lift his other hand but it was shaking and he sighed. “Sorry boss.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re the one who was injured.” The older man grunted and ducked his head down. Stiles gazed at him for a few moments before letting his own drop. There was nothing he could do to make this better for the man. They were at war. Stiles was a good soldier following behind Hale, who was a good man. He took his losses hard. Tried to treat them like family, giving them the training and leadership that he could so that they could get out alive. A month in and they were already accepting the fact that they wouldn’t make it. 

“Don’t fall asleep.” Hale muttered at him and he lifted his head, struggling to open his eyes. It was stiff and he realized he could see a lightness that came from the sun getting ready to rise. He was only faintly surprised to see that he survived the night. It felt nice to sit next to the man, despite the fact that they were in a hole in the ground in the middle of the war. Warmth ran along his side and he realized that they had somehow shifted closer in the night. 

“I think Davidson took a picture.” Hale muttered, bags around his eyes as he blinked blankly at the dirt wall in front of them. Stiles chuckled low, knowing the soldier never went anywhere without his camera. He wondered what the picture looked like as he shifted, gently trying to move his arm out of the mans grasp so he could look at it. The hands pressing the compress moved with him and he sighed, lifting the other with some difficulty to pry them off and lift the bandages away. 

“It should be treated.” Stiles wrinkled his nose as he spoke and quickly covered it back up. It wasn’t pretty, but some cleaning and a quick stitch and he’d be back out. God knows they needed their men fit but he wasn’t going to leave because of a small scratch. It wasn’t like his arm was blasted off. 

“You should be more careful.” Hale scolded and he rolled his eyes. It wasn’t the first time he was told he was reckless. So what if he talked some of the guys into stealing a German tank. It wasn’t like they could use it but they could still say they had it. Hell, he was working on some ideas of using it. 

“I know Boss, but some of these men have someone to return home too. No one is going to miss me so it’s my duty to make sure no one will miss them.” He tilted his head up, trying to be challenging but he knew he failed deeply. He didn’t know if Hale had anyone waiting up for him. It was impossible to tell. Hale was staring at him. He seemed to be searching for something and before Stiles could decipher if he passed the test he turned his head away, scanning their area. Stiles did the same out of curiosity and frowned. They were still the only ones there. Everyone else was resting or caring for the dead or standing guard. 

“Stiles, it’s not your job to get these men out.” Hale tried and this time he didn’t bother to hide his tired laugh.

“Like you can stop me from trying. We’re both too busy doing the same thing for you to even start.” Stiles turned his head back, catching a glimpse of blazing eyes in the predawn light before there were lips on his. His eyes widened before he leaned into it, sighing at the simple brush before jerking back at the sound of footsteps. Hale gasped as he did and Stiles stared at him desperately for a second, trying to convey what he was feeling when he didn’t even know what it was.

“What’s going on here?” the General walked around the corner and they both turned. 

“Sorry Sir. We both had minor injuries and passed out before making it…” Stiles trailed off when the mans eyes narrowed in on where Hales hands were holding his arm and he glanced down, letting out a soft sigh to see they were still over the bandage. 

“Get to the Medical Tent, now.” General snapped angerly and they both nodded with their heads down as the man shuffled past. Stiles opened his mouth to speak but Hale jumped up, hauling him up after him. 

“Let’s go.” He muttered, his green eyes flickering to where General vanished and he realized the older man hadn’t left them alone like he had assumed. 

“Sorry you had to waste your night making sure I didn’t bleed out.” Stiles hissed and the man rolled his eyes at him. “What boss? I didn’t quiet hear that. Did you say I’m the best soldier you’ve ever met? Really?”

“Knock it off before I put you on double duty.” Hale threatened and Stiles grinned. War was worth meeting him. 

Over the next few days he was surprised by a few more kisses. That was about as much times as they had alone. A single, stolen second where there was barely a moment to brush lips but it made Stiles sigh and everything in him unwound just slightly. He made sure to stay vigilant and it was easy with the constant threat of a bullet or toxic gas.

It was a when they were told to march to a new place to join a larger regime that shit really hit the fan. They made it to a village that was mostly ruins, burn and bombed to near nothingness. He hated it. He hated finding the lives the war destroyed that were innocent and so far gone. He hated how they found civilian bodies and were promptly ordered to leave them to rot in their bomb ridden homes. There was an occasional living human who looked almost as broken as the bodies, but they simply shuffled away or tried to join the fight. 

This time they were called to a stop right next to a half crumbled building. They had to couch to be covered but Stiles was feeling off. He glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Hale wobbling as well and looked around frantically. There was no gas and the others were all sharp eyed. There was a shout in the distance and suddenly the wall they were using as a shield was no longer there. Adrenaline coursed through him and he rolled onto his stomach as his ears rang. He knew there was pained screams, dying screams coming from his friends but he could just see the blood. 

What really fucked with him was that he could see his own body in front of him and he was crawling toward it. Dereks eyes stared back at him from Stiles body and he found himself reaching out with the mans own hand. 

“Stiles, we’re dead.” Dereks voice echoed in his head and he collapsed next to him. 

“We found each other. We kissed Der, maybe not a life soulmates get but we didn’t hesitate! I love you.” Stiles wished he could’ve saved the man but it would’ve mattered if he hadn’t saved himself. He really did need to stop his tendency to jump headfirst into danger. 

“I think this is the first time we died together, physically. From the same thing.” Derek murmured and he huffed, blinking his eyes and then he was back in his own body. Agony ripped through him and he didn’t think he would’ve been able to move his head if it wasn’t already facing his mate. “I’m here Stiles, just breath. I love you too.”

Stiles smiled but it faltered at the sound of someone speaking a different language. It was harsh and grated his ears. There was a silhouette of someone with a gun standing behind them and suddenly Argent was standing near their feet, shooting off a few rounds before the enemy dropped him with several rounds to the chest. He let out a gurgle and realized that his lungs were slowly filling with his life’s blood. Derek was slumped uselessly next to him with Argents body fallen over him. It wasn’t enough to hide the fact that he was missing a leg at the knee and maybe the other foot. Stiles couldn’t tell. He had been in shock, as was Stiles. There was only enough time for a sad blink from Derek before a hole appeared between his eyes and he slumped. Stiles tried to scream but something nearly inhuman came out instead and then everything went back. He didn’t hear a single shot.   
=============================================================================  
Stiles stared at the wall when the latest vision were over and blinked his eyes to see how real it was. He still felt like he was dying but this time it was an ache all over his skin. It took him a few minutes to sit back up and he realized that he was still at school. The bell must have rang because the halls were abandoned so he swung to his feet and headed to the parking lot. There were still students in the classrooms but he didn’t want to be home. He wanted this to stop. Two in one day. He was going to die soon if he didn’t figure this out. 

When he finally made it to his jeep, he just sat there. There was one person he wanted to go to yet there was nothing he could do. Instead, he turned his jeep toward Deatons and puttered along. Even if he couldn’t describe what a vision felt like, he could tell when one was coming, and he didn’t want to go blank while doing thirty five down a road. He would take it slow and give himself time to pull over so he wouldn’t kill anyone. 

Deaton was busy when he walked in but Stiles didn’t mind, walking straight to the backroom and slumping on the dog food bags. It was like the waiting room for the supernatural. It made him strangely nauseous to be around the scent of whatever was packed into the feed bags but he just tilted his head back. 

“I do believe you are meant to be in school.” Deaton appeared after a while but Stiles shook his head. 

“Do soulmates exist? Like through the lifetimes.” He didn’t like the way his voice got a little too high pitched or that his throat caught in shock and pain. “Do people… Are you supposed to see everything before dying? I don’t understand why I’m alive” Stiles lost a few sobs and folded in on himself, burying his hands in his hair as he did. A hand landed on his shoulder but it took him a second to pull out of himself to see Deaton kneeling beside him. 

“I keep seeing it. Again and again and again. I know it’s coming but it’s not. It’s never been like this.” Stiles could feel strands of hair getting ripped out from the hand that was still in his hair but he couldn’t stop. Deaton was trying to cover up his confusion before pulling him to his feet. 

“Come on, explain it to me somewhere where I can see you better.” The Druid lead him to an examination room and he shook him off, walking himself over to the table and sitting down on it. The man didn’t say anything else, waiting for Stiles to fill the space with his voice. So he did.

“Derek Hale went to Mexico and he died. I know he died. I saw his dead body, but...” Stiles clutched the table so hard with his hands that he could feel the metal bite into them and his knuckles turned white. “I had my first vision about a month ago. I saw us together in a past life. He loved me and I him and he had to go to war and when he died. I did to.” The first one happened so long ago that he could barely see it, barely feel it. It was almost like there was a limit to what he could see.

“You saw this?” Deaton asked calmly and he nodded. 

“We were lovers during two wars, one was a World War but I can’t remember which one. One was between countries before there were any great powers. I saw Derek die by train during the Great Depression and we were lovers but we both die. Sometimes we switch bodies and talk beforehand, but now I’m getting them at different intervals and feel like I’m being shredded all the time, but I’m not dead.” Stiles shook his head and turned it away. He took a deep breath as the next one started and looked at the shocked Druid. They were coming faster. He didn’t even have time to warn him.  
===============================================================================  
He was young. Younger than all the others. His mother had gotten sick but his father had taken him away long before she died. It didn’t mean anything because Stiles was sick now too. It was hard to look at his father. His skin felt too hot on his body and the doctors masks scared him. It made some of the meaner kids laugh, but they were older. They seemed to know more of what was going on. The adults were sad. They didn’t like looking at him. 

Once, he tried to tell the little girl in the bed next to him about a dream he had. It was something to do with his older self. A grown-up Stiles. It seemed so silly to think that he knew what he looked like growing up but he would draw his father a picture if he could. That way he could prove that he knew when he did grow up. He wanted to be just like his father. But the little girl just stared at him. She didn’t answer when he told her about the prince who fell in love with him and died in battle. He talked about the way they died and dying too. How this time they were so young and he could see the farm boy now, trying to understand why his body was failing when nothing was wrong. Derek had a few visions but put them off as nightmares and demons. Stiles hoped that he would come to him again. 

The nurses took the little girl away with a blanket covering her. Stiles told them to make sure she blinked. She was the best with the staring contests. They ignored him. He tried to complain but it only made him cough. It was harder to sit up now. He asked for his father but they said he wasn’t allowed into the room anymore. The older, meaner kids told him that his father died and he was next. But Stiles didn’t listen. He had Derek to live for and his father was the strongest person he knew. There was no way his father died. 

He was smiling when he felt Derek slip into his mind. He wanted to talk but the boy was scared, his arms wrapping around himself. Stiles knew he was wet from sweating but he felt so cold. There was a strange pain in his chest and he realized Derek was heartbroken. 

‘I’m so happy to met you at last. I wanted to tell you so much. I wanted you to meet my dad. The mean kids here said he died like momma but he said he’d be back.” Stiles was bursting and he felt the other boy smile at him, falling on him like one of his moms warm hugs. 

“Stiles, you better get better so we can meet in real life. I’ll give you a flower and you can show your mom. You’re such a ball of love, I can’t wait so rest up.” Dereks voice answered, still so much younger than he remember it and he felt tears start to roll down his eyes. But Stiles was happy. He didn’t cry when he was happy. His chest hurt and he realized Derek was crying. 

Stiles closed his eyes and tried to his best to sleep. Derek said he needed to get better so they could meet again. He loved Derek and he would listen. A happy smile came across his face as the connection with Derek faded. They whispered a goodbye, Derek struggling to stay with him but Stiles felt like he was drifting. The cold was gone, but so was the heat and the pain. It felt like he could breathe again and he didn’t hear the mean kids laughing at his tears. For a moment, he wanted to open his eyes and tell them that they weren’t his but then he realized it was what Derek was feeling and fell into a dream of his prince saving him from the mean kids. He would be big soon and could be strong like him, for him.  
==========================================================================  
Stiles woke with tears in his eyes. He must have fallen when the vision started because his knees ached and Deaton was holding the rest of him up. He felt so small, so innocent to die like that. Derek was so kind, not breaking his little heart and tell him the truth. That boy never got his flower. Derek was only his knight by protecting him from the pain of death. He didn’t even think he could explain the latest one to Deaton. It was too hard.

“Stiles, I don’t think there is anything I can so about this.” Deaton was looking him up and down. Stiles whined behind his teeth and tried to get up, struggling until he could at least lean against the cabinets. 

“Are we not soulmates anymore? Does that happen? I loved him in this life. I loved him and didn’t do anything about it. I wanted to but he didn’t love me.” Stiles stuttered out and rubbed at his eyes. “I wanted to take care of him but it didn’t work. He’s gone. I catch glimpses but he’s gone.” 

“Stiles, I do know your soulmates. But I can’t do anything for you. They are coming like contractions, rolling thought you. I don’t know if it’s death that is waiting at the end of this, or if the soulmate bond will break. This had been heard of before, but I believe now that it is just your past lives.” Deaton spoke like he was on his death bed and in a way, he was. There was no stopping this. That was all he really wanted to know. That’s what he came to find out. Not anything about Derek or if he was dead. The latest vision told him that he could be somewhere dying slowly and Stiles should be trying to find him, but he didn’t even know where to begin. He was at a loss.

“I’m going to find my dad.” Stiles managed to stand and walked out the door. Deaton didn’t seem bothered by his sudden exit. It somehow worried Stiles more that he was accepting than the fact that his death was practically confirmed. Like all the times before, he didn’t really care about living if it meant he was without his mate. He wanted Derek more than anything, mainly so he could tuck him away in the bed and hold him there for a week just to make sure he was safe. Maybe the rest of his life if he agreed. He also wanted to see if the man remembered how to do anything from their past lives. Stiles had a nightmare last night about a single arrow sticking out of the wolf. It reminded him of all the other times he nearly lost the wolf, all the times that he nearly died. 

Stiles did his best to pay attention to the road as he drove. A horrible part of his brain was telling him to crash his car so he didn’t have to see the rest and die a slow death, or even go on living with the knowledge that he lost his soul mate before they could do anything about it. It was nerve racking to have these thoughts but he kept it in check until he was pulling into the parking lot and hopping out. No one really stopped him as he walked in, not really realizing that he was still meant to be in school. 

“Dad?” He peeked into the office to see his old man sitting there, hunched over some reports. He was halfway to standing as Stiles slipped in and shut the door behind him. “It’s not an emergency. I just feel like I should tell you something that happened.”

“What is it? Are you hurt?” His father stood and he shrugged, his hands still jammed in his pockets. He shook his head before nodding slowly. 

“I think I might die.” He let out a sigh before slumping in a chair. A second later his father leaned against the desk in front of him with his arms crossed. 

“This better be a prank.” He glared down at him and he shook his head again, struggling to take a breath. 

“Remember when the nightmares started. I keep reliving my deaths from past lives. I talked to Deaton about it, but my life is linked with Dereks. That’s why I felt his loss so hard. When he dies, I die, and vise versa. It’s just taking longer this time.” Stiles slowly lifted his shirt and pointed at the arrow wound. He forced himself to remember the man that did everything to keep him safe, that he taught to fight again and agony shot from his chest. He stopped when his father grabbed his shoulders and he opened his eyes, watching in surprise as blood trickled down from his chest. 

“You’re not joking.” His father was pale and sickly looking but Stiles shrugged. 

“It’s not something to joke about. Well, maybe once I would’ve but now… I’m so tired, Dad. I probably should’ve told you much sooner but I was still trying to find a way to survive. Deaton is looking into it but it’s not looking good.” Stiles forced himself to stand, leaning forward as his father grabbed him. 

“You’re are not going to die on me. I swear I’ll ground you until you’re out of college. You’re not leaving me.” His father held him tight and Stiles did the same, feeling a fire ignite in him. He shouldn’t give up on the man. He should be trying harder and fight. All he had to do is figure out how he was going to survive. If he believed it, all that Stiles did and he still died, he was older, and more stubborn. Even Derek was loving back then. But they always died. Their connection was strong. 

“I have to go. I have an idea.” Stiles jerked back and stared at the wall. He had to get home. Hopefully he did it in time. He father tried to hold on tighter but he shoved him off. “I promise to fight it. Call Deaton to see if he has any ideas.” 

“Alright, love you son.” His father took a few seconds to let go but Stiles was already pulling toward the door. He shouldn’t have been avoiding this. He should’ve focused more on the Derek aspect and not on the loss and pain. He’s followed ever lead except he most obvious one. Him. Them! Their connection with each other was a straight shot to finding out where Derek was and saving him. That would stop Stiles from dying and then he could kick the wolfs ass. It was a logical explanation to all of this. Derek was still alive. And he was dying slowly. Whatever was happening, they always met each other in the end. And they were getting close to the end. 

Stiles managed to get to his Jeep and tore off toward his house. His hands were white where he clutched the steering wheel and his leg jiggled between pushing down the clutch but he couldn’t stop. Already, he could feel the next wave and he just needed to get home. It was unlikely that he could but the thing about small towns was that he knew every back way where he could speed like a crazed person, squealing tires and all. He just made it to his house in time, slamming his jeep into park and turning the key as his vision went dark.   
=================================================================================  
Derek was a very talented painter. Everyone knew it. It pissed so many people off but to Stiles, he believed he would go down in history as one of the greats. He may have been bias since the man secretly fucked him senseless before painting him just so Stiles wouldn’t fidget and he had some flush. Stiles didn’t care that there were several paintings of him naked but he would let the man do anything he wanted. 

“Stiles, hold still.” Derek spoke and he rolled around on the bed before letting out a sigh, slumping back down in the same position. He could feel some of the bruises forming on his hips from fingers clutching his still fare skin. He had fallen asleep after their last go, Derek cuddling him long enough that he was warm and comfortable before he left to go paint. But Stiles had several strange dreams. His Derek was a prince, he died as a child of some sort of illness and something to do with a war. It was a terrible dream and yet it wasn’t the strangest thing to happen to him that day. 

“There was something that’s bugging me about today.” Stiles finally rolled over and spread his legs out. He was too sore, and Derek didn’t really mind if he wasn’t modest. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it and it was kind of his job as a muse to motivate him to finish, at least for another round. 

“What is it?” Derek was set back near the one window of the basement he used as his studio. It didn’t make much difference since there was a storm outside that left everything cold and dreary. He was known around the small city in Mississippi that they were living in and managed to sell a lot of his pieces as long as he couldn’t sign them. They didn’t like that he used Stiles as a muse, or that they were obviously lovers. They didn’t like them. They loved his art. Derek was trying a new style but it took Stiles being there in the room to get him to paint faster. 

“I can’t remember” Stiles rolled around again, trying to think about what happened earlier that put him so off. It was something to do with his grandmother, who had been dead for over three years. He was certain he heard her voice screaming at him to get to high ground. But he didn’t hear the dead, and there was no way he was going to go anywhere without Derek. Derek wasn’t moving until the painting was finished and they went another round to celebrate. 

“Then why worry about it? It’s probably just the storm.” Derek still didn’t look up at him and Stiles sat up in the bed. It was shoved into a corner where the shadows seem to lengthen but it was their spot that was only for them. The place where they could just be. But it wasn’t comfortable as he wished it would be when Derek was all the way across the room. 

Stiles stood after a while and pulled on a pair of loose pants and shifted so he could look out the window without moving behind his lover. Derek didn’t like it when he saw the painting before he was done, leaving him to struggle to do anything more if Stiles said he liked it. Once he saw it and told Derek he thought it was nice, the man couldn’t touch it again even if there were mistakes that he longed to cover up. Derek was trained, Stiles wasn’t. But the painter wouldn’t dare change a thing if Stiles enjoyed something.

“Der, I’m serious. Something’s off. I just…” He frowned at the window before shuttering uncontrollably. A chill settled in his bones and he knew in the deepest part of his being that they were dead. It was too late. He heard Derek give a distracted grunt but it was enough to snap him out of his shock. He spun on the spot, reaching out for his lover as a wave rushed through the street. The glass in the window broke instantly from the impact and picked him up. For a single heartbeat, he saw Derek jerk his head up before the wave overtook him too. 

Stiles struck the opposite wall, knocking the breath from his lungs before he clawed toward the only door. Water was still rushing in through the broken window, carrying debris and a full body of another lost soul that was caught in the destruction. Stiles cried out as a something hit him but then it was as if the water slowed. He coughed out what he could, moving what felt like a branch off him and swam toward the door. 

Water was still coming from the window, but when he reached the door he could see why it had slowed. The basement wasn’t exactly air tight, but the bottom floors were flooded above him and their air had to escape out through the water pressure from above. The doors themselves opened out into the street and were reinforced with steal after they had their first break in years ago. Derek nearly died from the beating he received. Now the doors were trapping them in, the water holding them shut in their cement prison. 

“Stiles!” Derek’s voice sounded broken as it echoed eerily over the sound of water and he turned. 

“I’m over here, Der.” He hoped his lover didn’t find the dead body and think it was him. He had a clear view of it coming in, breaking as it was bent by the deadly force. There was a frantic splashing and the man floundered over to him. Stiles could see his wounds and he reached out to pull him close so he could stand on the steps too. In the time it took the man to reach him, the water rose several more inches. 

“We don’t have much time.” Stiles held onto Derek as the man panted. His eyes were bright with pain as his arm hung uselessly at his side. It was either broken or dislocated but either way, it wasn’t working. Even if they could hold their breaths and find a way out of the basement, they could never survive the current that was still flooding the street outside. 

“Stiles, I… I would’ve married you if I could’ve. I love you so much. I wanted to grow old with you.” Derek spoke desperately but Stiles was staring sadly at the ruined works of art. His love would never be remembered now. He would be wiped from the history of art, or turned into a womanizer. 

“Derek. You had to of known this would end tragically for us. We lived life to the fullest and didn’t hide.” Stiles smiled, knowing that they chose to live as such so people like Cora could hide with her ‘Roommate’ in plain sight and not be attacked. They could take the hate for her to be safe. Even sending her and Allison to New York for their studies so they could support each other. 

“But I wanted more than the fullest. You deserve better than that!” Derek looked at him like he wasn’t getting the point once again and he found himself tearing up. 

“Der, I love you. But this is all that we get. This is all that we will ever get. A painful death.” Stiles nearly sobbed but the water was picking them up. He grabbed his lover and gave him a quick kiss. “When you remember, don’t panic. I’ll see in our next life. And don’t hang onto me.” He let go, sagging down. He hadn’t realized from the iciness of the water and the rush to survive but he could see the red blooming in the water now. The branch must have done more damage than he initially thought. Everything started to blur but Derek held on, pulling Stiles up with his one good arm. They had less than a foot of air. He wanted to speak but he was suddenly memorized by the way his lovers eyes flashed from their beautiful hazel to his brown. 

A second later he heard Derek humming their song to him, a soft jazzy number and he felt a wash of warmth in his soul, knowing that this was their farewell to this version of them. Derek must have had the visions and then they kissed, one last time. It was different and similar at the same time. Feeling Derek touch his lips and know that they were his own. 

Then everything became too difficult to focus. He took a weakened breath, his mouth filling with water but he wasn’t sure if it was his own or Derek but even as his chest convulsed to push it out his body was too far gone. His mouth fell open and the last of his air tricked out as water forced its way in. Darkness folded around him and he felt an ache in his chest, wishing Derek’s death would be quick and not as painful as actually drowning.   
===============================================================================  
Stiles woke in his jeep and immediately flung the door open and threw up. It was disgusting black water from the dream that come up and he gave a high-pitched giggle from the stress as he wiped it from his chin. He didn’t pull himself together as he staggered out of the jeep and slammed the door shut, wobbling up to the house on water weaken legs and rammed into the door. It took over a minute for him to get the key into the lock and slipped in, barely remembering to close the door behind him as he headed for the couch. He was certain the stairs would be too difficult in his current state. It was like he still had water in his ears, screwing his balance up just enough so he couldn’t walk in a straight line and he was too water drunk to correct it. 

“Now, we wait.” He flopped onto the couch and slumped down with a rough exhale to make sure his lungs kick started properly. He let out a full body shutter when he realized that he wasn’t soaked. His clothes were a little damp under the armpits and around his neck but everything else was bone dry. It felt wrong to feel the soft cloth against his skin and he shook his head. 

It took several minutes for him to feel settled enough to reach out. For every vision, he felt more and more of a connection to the wolf that was so far away. Their souls once again mixing as they prepared for their next life. He let out a soft breath and closed his eyes. 

“Derek?” He tried to call out with his mind but there was a pull that was almost too much. Half of him wanted to stop but then he felt a flicker of recognition just along the edge of his consciousness and he hooked his mental fingers into it. 

Stiles imagined himself moving faster than air along the connection he felt in his mind. Colors flashed behind his eyes and he felt a confused sort of grumble, but it wasn’t coming from him. Stiles blinked open his eyes and saw he was in a desert. He turned slowly even as the noised petered off and saw a creature slumped in the dusty dirt. The was one second where he met bright red eyes and he took a step forward. 

“Derek?” He stretched a hand out before he realized that he didn’t have one. Instead he imagined himself moving forward, settling down next to him. After a few seconds he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the beasts.

“Stiles? How are you here? The dreams.” Derek’s voice was suddenly in his head. Stiles felt a wave of concern and fear at the sheer exhaustion he felt from the beast and he tried to move his own energy into his wolfs soul. 

“I did this so I could talk to you. Der, you have to fight for me. I don’t know what going on but this life can’t end like this. Please, I’ve loved you for so long and we didn’t do anything about it.” He felt like he was talking to a ghost but it was only a second later he saw the fur spreading on the beast, the body morphing from a bastardization of a werewolf to what looked like a normal, yet still extremely large, wolf. Bright blue eyes stared desperately at him that morphed to red but the pain was gone. Stiles let out a cheer, throwing his arms up as if he could wrap them around him in celebration.

Stiles hit the floor as the coffee table took out his knees. He was so excited to see Derek shift that he lost his focus on the link they shared and snapped back to his body. All the wounds he had from before seemed to melt away and he let out a groan, dropping his head down as he clutched his knees. It was almost like the first time he had a dream, slipping down to the ground completely as he lost consciousness.   
=====================================================================  
“Oh God no.” His father voice reached him and he was suddenly being shaking awake. Stiles flailed around and grunted as he hit the table. A second later he was being held to his fathers chest. Stiles smacked his lips together as he tried to figure out what was going on. He was exhausted and dizzy, his ears ringing but he leaned mindlessly into the warmth. The bitter taste in his mouth reminded him that he barfed without brushing.

“Don’t scare me like that,” He realized almost immediately that he was being rocked and he reached around to hold him back, leaning his head on his side. 

“Derek did it. He survived” Stiles could feel his fathers tears falling on him but he didn’t care. His mate was alive. 

“Deaton said it was impossible. You die, he dies. Your both locked together.” His father pulled back and cupped his cheeks, turning his face around before glaring at him. “What the HELL are you doing on the floor?” 

“Oh, I sort of stretched my soul out to Dereks and told him to knock it off and fight it for me. It took so much out of me that I passed out when I came back to my body.” Stiles grinned happily at his father. A second later there was the sound of a phone ringing and he snatched it up, fumbling it in his rush to answer. 

“Calm down.” His father grabbed his hands and he managed to steady it enough to answer it. 

“Hello?” He held it up against his ear and waited, his mind already telling him who was on the other side. 

“Can you tell me if you experienced that too?” Dereks voice came through and he nodded before he remembered he should speak. 

“Yeah. Wait! Weren’t you in the desert?” Stiles frowned in confusion and looked around. A second later there was a sigh.

“I’m fast Stiles. I ran to the nearest town.” Derek somehow sounded nervous and he found himself smiling. 

“Aw, you missed me.” Stiles heard his father heave a massive sigh and try to pull back. Stiles quickly hugged him tight before getting to his feet with a groan. He wobbled for a second and blinked helplessly as his vision went completely black. His father grabbed his arm and helped him to the couch but Stiles refused to let go of the phone. 

“Stiles, I’ll be home soon but please, just rest.” Derek begged and Stiles shook his head. 

“Did you just get tired?” Stiles hissed out and he felt a flicker on the bond that they shared. He barely stopped himself from latching onto it and trying to drag himself back to his mate. 

“Don’t worry about it, pup. I’m coming home.” Derek rumbled at him and he shuttered, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling again. 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m moving from my couch for the rest of the night.” He clung to the phone despite the fact that the rest of his body was becoming limp. His father was standing over him with a glare on his face and he heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, I gotta go. My dad is pissed.”

“Why?” Derek still sounded breathless and he gave a weak smile. 

“I blacked out on the living room floor and he came home to find me.” He sank in on himself more and more as the silence stretched on the phone and his father continued to glare at him. “I’ll take care of myself as long as you get here.” 

“Deal.” Derek didn’t hang up and Stiles held it close, listening to the sound of his breathing. The sheriff leaned forward and took the phone from him. 

“Hale.” Stiles felt surprise from the link he had with the wolf but all he could do was stretch his hand out after him. The old man moved around the couch and toward the kitchen. 

“Dad, be nice. He’s been through hell with this too.” He hissed out at him but his father left the room. Exhaustion washed over Stiles again and he almost lost consciousness yet he fought it, wanting to hear what his father was saying. It wasn’t until he blinked open his eyes did he realize he did pass out again and the lights were on in the kitchen. He took a deep breath so he could get ready to get up before he gave up and closed his eyes. Derek would be home later.  
===================================================================================  
It took a few days for Derek to get home but Stiles knew the moment he stepped into town. He knew Derek was driving and he ended up pacing through Scotts house, too stressed to do anything more. His brother had tried to ask him what was going on but he told him it would take too long. There was the fact that his brother might try and stop him. He was too amped up to take the time to tell them what was about to happen. 

There was the sound of a car outside and he knew that it was his mate. He turned and smiled at the betas he gathered at the house, the three of them staring at the door. Stiles ran to the door, knowing that the wolf was already making his way up and flung it open. 

“You’re here.” Stiles wasn’t sure if he jumped forward or as dragged toward the wolf but then they were hugging. Derek tucked his face in his neck and nearly picked him up from the force of hug, humming happily. Stiles could feel the bond they shared flare before settling and it was almost as if all the pain from his past was no longer affecting him and he pulled back, letting his hands run over the familiar side as he did. 

There was a thundering behind him and he jerked back, stumbling as Derek tried to keep ahold of him but then the betas all jumped on him at the same time. They all started talking and Stiles backed away as Derek tried to calm them down. 

“But we felt the bond break.” Isaac patted at the Alphas arm that was around him and Derek sighed low. 

“I may have died briefly but I’m back. And I think I became an Alpha. I’m not sure, I just spent all my time coming home.” Derek tried to be soothing but the three all let out worried noises and pressed closer. Stiles let them for a full minute before shooing them all back into the house. 

“Come on. We don’t know what’s out here and we don’t want anyone to know Derek’s back if they start to try and kill him again.” They listened at first but then Erica was staring at him with her heels dug in. 

“You smell different. And you knew that he was coming and made us all come here.” She tried to stay put but Derek easily moved them forward. 

“Don’t worry.” Derek warned and she relaxed. “Just one moment.” Stiles gasped as he was kissed and fell into it, knowing the way Derek likes it the best before he pulled back. He let out a sigh, moving willingly as shoved to the couch.

“What the Hell is going on?” Scott hissed and Stiles waved a hand at him. 

“Oh, we are soulmates. Past lives and everything. I felt him dying and kept seeing all of our lives together because we die within a few minutes of each other.” Stiles tilted his head to the side, still relishing in the kiss to really care what was currently happening. 

“Soulmates?” Boyd somehow managed to sound both unbelieving and understanding at the same time. Derek waved them off sat next to Stiles, letting him curl against his side. 

“This explains so much of what happened with you lately.” Scott muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think. Please. I'm stuck sick in quarantine

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think. This fic has a lot of death scenes coming up so beware. I don't want to get griped at because they die.


End file.
